


Beyond the Sea

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bittersweet, Blow Jobs, Creature Castiel, Frottage, Grand Adventure, Happy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, Mating, Mating Bites, Nudity, Sailor Dean, Scent Marking, Selkie Castiel, So Much Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean lives for the sea. After some encouragement from his brother and uncle-not-uncle he decides to go on a solo sailing trip across the atlantic. What he doesn't expect it to pick up a passenger along the way.</p><p>-----</p><p>
  <i>He’s nearly ready to leave when he spots something that stops him in his tracks. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>In a stall near the end of the line is a small crate. Inside the crate is a seal. </i>
</p><p><i>It surprises Dean, because there is no way it should be this far south. The poor thing looks miserable and is practically </i>glaring<i> at the man beside the crate with bright blue eyes. </i></p><p>
  <i>Is that even normal? For seals to have eyes that color?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting Sail

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. So I shouldn't be posing another story, but this idea popped into my head and I could not get it out. So I'm writing it anyway! Let me know what you think.
> 
> Also I know that I'm vague about some of the sailing stuff, and that is intentional cause I know nothing about sailing. If anyone notices crazy mistakes, please let me know. And many of these towns were picked from google maps, so sorry if they aren't aptly described.

Dean Winchester can vividly remember the first time he went out to sea.

He had just turned fourteen when his father, John, passed away from a sudden stroke, leaving Dean and his younger brother Sam orphans since their mother had died before Dean was even five. The brothers had been sent to live with their Uncle-not-Uncle Bobby Singer in a little town on the coast of Maine. Sam, being only ten, had an easier time adjusting to their new life. He had always been an optimistic child, and while he obviously missed their father, he took to being in a stable home like a duck to water. Dean wasn’t fairing so well. He didn’t know how to live without their father and knew nothing but their vagrant lifestyle. It didn’t take long before Dean began to feel itchy and uncomfortable staying in one place.

He began to fight with Sam and Uncle Bobby, and with his classmates and teachers. It became common place to see the young teen with black eyes and split lips from playground brawls.

One day Uncle Bobby pulled him out of bed at the break of dawn and told him gruffly to get dressed and meet him in the truck. Dean followed the orders reluctantly, pissed for no discernible reason. He grew more and more upset when he realized Sam was allowed to stay in bed and sleep the Saturday away. Bobby wasn’t listening to Dean’s grumbling, just backed the truck onto the road and drove off.

Dean had dozed off in the cab, only waking properly when Bobby gave him a firm but affectionate shake to his shoulder.

“Come on, son,” he had said before opening his door and stepping out of the truck.

The first thing Dean noticed was the smell. It was not dissimilar to the seafood aisle at the local Hannaford but fresher. For some reason it settled into his bones and smoothed some of his rougher edges. Bobby had taken him to the marina, and was already walking onto the closest dock.

Dean wasn’t given the opportunity to ask questions. He just scrambled to follow his Uncle to wherever he was heading. When he caught up with him, Bobby was working to untie a small catamaran. “What the hell, Bobby?” Dean asked, out of breath.

“Watch your tone with me, boy,” Bobby scolded and motioned with his head. “And get onboard.”

Dean scrambled aboard the small vessel just as Bobby pushed them away from the dock.

Bobby handled the small boat with a practiced ease and before long the two were making their way into the harbor.

They didn't speak. Bobby just steered the boat further into sea and Dean sat, waiting for _something_. He was expecting an order, or a heart-to-heart, but neither came. When it became clear that that wasn’t what Bobby had planned Dean decided to just kick off his shoes and relax.

As the waves started picking up, Dean sat himself at the edge and threw his feet over the edge and let his toes skim the water.

After an hour Dean was surprised to feel the anger that surged through his body nearly twenty-four-seven had disappeared.

Soon Bobby was guiding them to a small island and securing them to a small tree the jutted out towards the sea.

Still, Bobby didn’t speak. He just moved to sit next to Dean and held out a bottle of Coca-Cola. The two sipped on their fizzy drinks and watched the sun rise higher and higher in the sky.

It must have been half and hour later that Dean finally spoke.

“This is cool and all,” he had said, “but why’d you take me out here?”

Bobby took a deep breath and turned to face the teen. “When my wife, Karen, died I was angry. Jus’ like you. I didn’t know what to do with it, and I could feel it poisonin’ me. It was your daddy who suggested I find a hobby. Some way to occupy my mind with somethin’ that wasn’t my grief. The sea, it has a way of cleanin’ your wounds. Makin’ you new again.”

Dean ignored the tears in his eyes and pulled his Uncle into a tight hug. “Thanks, Bobby,” he managed to say through the tightness in his throat. Bobby just nodded, and asked if Dean would like to steer for a bit.

After that day, Dean had found his new love. He went out on the old catamaran nearly every day, with Bobby at first then later by himself once he knew how to handle her. Sam went with him a couple of times, but soon gave into his seasickness and opted to stay on land. When Dean turned sixteen, the age when most kids wanted cars, he begged for a boat of his own. Bobby gave in eventually and bought Dean a small Catalina Daysailer. It was not uncommon for Dean to pack a small bag and sail out to one of the small islands just off shore. He would camp for a night, sometimes on land but mostly on the small deck of Mary’s Love.

On those nights, Dean would dream about sailing off into the sunset and seeing the world. He didn’t think it was possible. He wasn’t smart enough, didn’t have enough money, and had too many responsibilities at home. But he still dreamed.

He only ever told Sam about his desire to sail the world solo. His younger brother had seemed almost more excited than Dean himself; encouraging him even after Dean told him what a long shot it was.

Dean continued to sail through his teenage years and could have never been happier.

On the night before Sam’s high school graduation Dean packs a bag for them and drags his baby brother out to the docks. Mary’s Love, named after his mother, is bobbing happily in the soft waves of the Atlantic, and Dean smiles as he approaches her.

“Hey, Baby,” he coos giving her starboard side a loving pat. “Let’s show Sammy a good time tonight, huh?”

Sam laughs behind him, and coughs _‘objectophilia’_ into his hand.

Dean shoots him a glare and whispers, “he just doesn’t understand,” quietly to the boat. Sam shakes his head, but hops onto the boats small deck regardless. He doesn’t love the sea, but he loves that his brother loves it so much. Once Dean is sure his brother has both feet onboard he pushes of from the deck and glides effortlessly to his spot behind the wheel.

There are a number of small islands that Dean frequents when he’s by himself, but with Sam’s seasickness he decides to stick to one close by. The small Island, which the brothers have dubbed The Bunker because of it’s large number of caves, is just over three nautical miles off shore. It’s an easy trip, and the brothers drop anchor with just enough time to watch the sun set from the deck.

Dean pulls out a couple of beers from a small cooler and cracks the tops open, handing one to Sam and keeping one for himself. They sit quietly, just taking in the beauty before them. Soon it’s dark, with just the moon and stars to see by. Dean tosses his brother a headlamp and together they take their packs onto the island. They climb up to the highest peak and lay out sleeping bags. Dean starts a small fire while Sam pulls out marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hersey bars.

“Thanks for bringing me out here, Dean,” Sam says once they both have charred s’mores in their hands.

“No problem-o, Sammy,” Dean replies through a mouthful of food.

“Gross!” Sam squeals, while flinging a small rock at his older brother.

Dean just laughs and lays backward against the ground. The stars at bright and beautiful tonight, and Dean can’t help but imagine what they would look like out in the middle of the ocean.

As if Sam can read his mind, he takes a deep breath and says quietly, “Do you still think about sailing away?”

They’ve had the conversation so many times, Dean figures he could have it in his sleep. “‘Course, Sammy. Doesn’t mean it’s any more possible now.”

Sam doesn’t speak right away, instead busies himself with skewering another marshmallow and holding it over the small flame. Dean is nearly asleep when he hears his brother’s voice. “I want you to go, Dean. You deserve this for yourself.” Dean opens his mouth to object, but Sam stops him with a raised hand. “No. This is your dream. You are so good at it, and you won’t have anything holding you back soon. I’m leaving for Stanford in a couple of months. You know Bobby doesn’t need you to look after him. Just think about it, will you?”

Dean does think about it. He thinks about it once Sam’s asleep and snoring in his sleeping bag. He thinks about it while he takes a longer route towards the dock the next morning while Sam practices his valedictorian speech. He thinks about it while Sam gets his diploma and gives his speech for real. He thinks about it while Bobby snaps picture after picture of Sam with his friends in their navy blue graduation gowns.

He doesn’t stop thinking about it, not once in the entire week that follows. Dean figures Sam knows this, but thankfully his younger brother holds his tongue.

Dean wants it so bad. He wants the adventure and the intrigue of seeing faraway places. Maybe Sam’s right. Maybe this is something Dean can make happen. He decides to talk to Bobby about it before he gets too excited. If the old man thinks he can manage without Dean watching his ass then maybe Dean can plan for real.

Just over a week after the trip with his brother Dean invites Bobby out for a trip around the bay. They decide to take the catamaran for old times sake and Dean even lets his uncle steer (even if Dean thinks he’s better at it at this point).

They’ve been out for nearly half a day before Bobby ties them up to a large outcropping of rocks out in the middle of the bay.

“So what’s this all about, boy?” Bobby asks. He’s sipping his soda while Dean does the same.

“I’ve been thinking more about taking a trip,” Dean says quietly.

Bobby takes a breath before pressing further. “What kinda trip?”

Dean rubs a large hand over the back of his neck and over the sea rough scruff on his chin. He’s been growing it ever since he could; figuring he couldn’t sail without at least a little bit of a beard. “You know I’ve always wanted to sail, you know, everywhere. I thought now that Sam’s gonna be goin’ away that I could maybe pull it off. But I wanted to make sure you’d be okay without me around.”

“What do you think you are? My nursemaid?” Bobby snipes.

“No! Bobby, of course not. It’s just, you know, it’d be gone a long time,” Dean adds hastily.

Bobby nods and downs the rest of his cola. He tosses the empty bottle into the cooler and pulls out a weathered flask from his inside jacket pocket. “Dean. Look at me,” Bobby says seriously as he uncaps the flask and takes a swallow. Dean complies without a thought. “You know that you’re practically a son to me and God knows I love ya. Truth is you were born for the sea and I’ve known it since the firs’ day I took you out. If what you want is to go on some grand adventure then I’m gonna help you do it. Even if I’m gonna miss you while you’re gone.”

It’s more than Dean could have ever hoped for and he doesn’t hesitate in pulling Bobby into a hug. “Thanks Bobby. Really. Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually thinkin’ about this.”

Bobby claps a hand on his back and pulls out of the embrace with what qualifies for a smile on his wrinkled face. “We gotta lot a work to do if you’re planning on pushing off before Sam leaves for California. What do you say we head back and get to it?”

Dean slowly plans his route. He wants to sail south, following the coastline down to the Caribbean. He wants to spend a few days island hopping before sailing further down to South America, where he can spend some time in Venezuela and Brazil. From there he will cross the Atlantic to the northeast and make port in Senegal. He’ll head north to Morocco and kick it around there for a couple days. Then he’ll go even further north to Europe; stoping in Portugal, Spain, France and the UK. Then a quick jump to Iceland (he’s heard it’s incredible) and then back home. It’s a daunting concept but so exciting.

He thinks he might be able to make the trip in four months. Give or take a few weeks.

And if he wants to leave before Sam then that gives him less than four months to prepare.

Once he tells Sam about his plan, his little brother become nearly unbearably excited. He throws himself into helping his brother make lists and together they shop for anything that will help him on the open seas.

Dean is most concerned about his boat. As much as he loves her, he knows that Mary’s Love won’t survive such a long and arduous journey. There is no way he wants to sell her, and worries that he won’t be able to afford new boat without it.

Luck comes in the form of Old Man Cain, another local with saltwater in his veins instead of blood. Dean runs into him at the Roadhouse, his favorite bar, and gets to talking about his trip. Cain, who never seems to like anyone, decides he wants to make an exception of Dean. He explains that he has a boat (an old thirty-four footer) that is just floating in the docks waiting to see the sea. He explains that the old girl needs some love, which Dean is more than willing to give.

When he isn’t at home with maps spread over the dining room table or with Sam on the computer making _so many lists_ then he is down at the docks working Lady Colette into tip top shape.

Then, against all odds, he’s ready to go.

Dean’s going away is a small affair. Sam and Bobby are there, obviously, but so is Cain. Ellen, who owns the roadhouse, even shows up with her daughter Jo. Jo, who just turned sixteen, has shown an affinity for boats and took to helping Dean fix up Lady Colette over the last couple of weeks. They all give him hugs (Sam even gives him a sloppy kiss on the lips) and then Dean is off.

It’s bizarre, Dean thinks, finally going on a trip that he has fantasized about for half a decade. After the first couple hours he thinks it’s time to go home, cause that’s what he’d be doing normally, but then he realized he has months to go and he smiles for nobody but himself.

The leg of the trip down the United States coast is quick. He makes a few stops, mostly to rest and refuel, but sometimes to see a tourist site that Sammy found him. He takes hundreds of photos and calls Sam on the satellite phone every couple of days.

The further south he goes the _bluer_ the water gets. For years he’s been surrounded by the near blackness of the Maine coast. Now the near turquoise of the Caribbean seems like a whole new world. The first chance he gets Dean drops anchor and strips down to his birthday suit and jumps in the water.

Dean can’t believe how _warm_ it is and refuses to get back in the boat until his fingers are pruney and disgusting. He lays out on the deck, naked, while the sun dries the saltwater from his skin.

Some days he spends on the boat, while others he spends on land. It’s surprising how welcoming the locals are of him, and many ask to see his boat once they hear of his plans. He spends a couple nights with a beautiful singer named Cassie, who’s dark skin looks stunning against the bright blue backdrop.

At his next stop he meets a southerner named Benny, who’s been making his way around the islands from Louisiana. The two men share beers at a local bar before spending the night in Benny old fishing boat.

Dean almost doesn’t want to leave. He says as much to Sam on the phone just over a month after he left and his little brother reminds him what he has to look forward to. Dean just takes more photos after that, and promises himself he will return to the Caribbean again.

Venezuela is unlike anything he’s ever seen. As he follows the coastline he is astounded by the colors around him. He makes port in Maiquetía and wanders the town. He doesn’t know a lick of Spanish, but is able to make his way around using his miming skills and a few well placed smiles. There’s a bar with a local band playing and Dean stop to have a beer and watch the locals dance. He’s too nervous to get on the dance floor himself, but enjoys it nonetheless.

That night he forks over some money for a room in a nearby hostel and falls asleep to the soft drumming and guitar strumming of neighboring musicians.

The next day Dean zig zags through the small streets until he finds himself in a small, local market. He buys a few fresh fish from a young boy and his father and takes what feels like thousands of photos for Sam. He even haggles over a small guitar for himself. Dean figures he can teach himself to play while he’s by himself and lonely.

He’s nearly ready to leave when he spots something that stops him in his tracks.

In a stall near the end of the line is a small crate. Inside the crate is a seal.

It surprises Dean, because there is no way it should be this far south. The poor thing looks miserable and is practically _glaring_ at the man beside the crate with bright blue eyes.

Is that even normal? For seals to have eyes that color?

For whatever reason, Dean approaches the stall and attempts to buy the animal in broken Spanish. The man doesn’t seem to want to budge, but Dean won’t take no for an answer. After settling on a frankly large amount of cash, Dean leaves the market with a guitar over his back and a seal locked in a crate in his arms.

Dean takes the animal onboard his boat and immediately sets sail. He wants to get his purchase as far away from that market as possible.

The night after Dean leaves Maiquetía he is awoken from a dead sleep by the sound of gasping and running water.

Dean is disoriented as he stumbles out of his small bed and makes his way onto the deck. Once there he immediately slips on what feels like a pile of fish skin.

“What the hell?” Dean mumbles as he fumbles for the flashlight he keeps just outside the cabin. His fingers finally grab hold of it and he focuses the light down at his feet. He’s standing on what looks like exactly what it feels like. It’s dark and speckled and slippery between his toes. “What the hell?” He reiterates.

Then he hears the same sound that woke him up. Gasping and groaning and running water. Dean focuses the beams light towards the small spout he rigged to come up from the port side of the boat.

Dean nearly has a heart attack when the beam of light lands on a man, naked, chugging water like his life depends on it. Then the man turns and Dean is shocked by the blue of his eyes.

He recognizes those eyes.

“What the fuck!” Dean screams as he stumbles back, slipping on the mess at his feet, and falls to his ass.

The man cocks his head to the side before returning his mouth to the water spout. Dean is sure he is hallucinating. “Who the hell are you?” He asks the man, and only gets another head tilt in return.

Then the man’s eyes venture down to where Dean’s standing and his eyes go impossibly wide. He rushes forward. Dean readies himself for a fight, and is surprised when the man only bends to scoop up the slimy blob and cradles it to his chest like something precious.

Maybe Dean’s still asleep, that’s the only way he can justify slowly asking the man, “Are you okay? What’s your name?”

The man just tilts his head and holds onto the bundle in his arms.

“I’m Dean,” Dean says while placing a hand to his chest. “And you are?”

The man opens his mouth, then closes it and clears his throat. “Castiel,” the man finally says. His eyes widen like he can’t believe he said anything. Dean watches as he takes a step back, shakes his head, and crouches low to the ground.

Then, in a blink of Dean’s eyes, the man is gone.

In his place is a speckled seal.


	2. Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed the rating. Just to be safe.

Dean wakes the next morning like a bullet from a gun. He jumps from his bed (when did he get back into his bed?) and rushes out of the cabin. He doesn’t know what he expects to see. Maybe a man, maybe a seal, maybe nothing because the whole thing was a hallucination caused by weird Venezuelan beer.

His first steps out of the cabin are hesitant. Dean takes a quick look around, but sees nothing. His beer induced hallucination theory is looking more and more likely. That is until he spots the busted crate a few feet away. It looks like it exploded from the inside. Must have been from when the man changed the night before.

But where is he now? What did he call himself last night? Dean racks his brain, but he hadn’t exactly been in the right mind to remember something like that.

They aren’t too far off shore. The guy could have run, or swam, off. Though something in his gut is telling him that isn't true. Last night, he had seemed confused, maybe? Scared? It’s hard for Dean to put his finger on it.

Before Dean can worry any more there is a splash and the seal jumps from the Atlantic onto his boat. In his teeth is a large fish. The seal drops it on the deck and uses his shout to push it towards Dean.

“Uh, thanks,” Dean says quietly. The seal just nods. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything. “Why’re you giving it to me, though? Aren’t you hungry too?”

Dean doesn’t want to think about how crazy he looks. He’s standing on the deck of his boat, wearing nothing but a loose pair of cotton shorts, and talking to a goddamn seal.

The seal in questions just noses the fish closer.

“Man, I know you could talk to me if you wanted to. Please, just, come on.” Dean bends down to pick up the fish. It’s large. At least twenty pounds, give or take.

Dean thinks back on the conditions he found the seal in and starts to get an idea why the creature is behaving the way it is. He crouches down so he can look him in the eye. “I’m not going to hurt you. I think maybe that’s what the last guy did to you, huh?” The sea gives a tiny nod. “Well I’m not him. Where are you from? Maybe I can get you home.”

Dean watches as the seal’s eyes widen and seem to glow. He can practically hear the creature think it over. Then, with a strange sound like water over rocks, the seal’s skin seems to slide off and in its place is the man from before.

Looking at him now, without the drowsiness of last night, Dean can admit that he is extremely handsome. His dark hair is sticking up in a million directions and has a roughness that a life in seawater gives. He has pink lips that are full and chapped, and a strong jaw covered in stubble. Dean wants to look down, take him in in full, but he knows that now is not the time.

“You would take me home?” The man asks. His voice is deep and rough. The words come out slowly, like he isn’t sure he’s saying the right thing.

Dean gives him his most sincere smile and nods. “Yeah, man. I figured you’re probably pretty far away by now.”

“Yes,” the man says sadly, “I knew, at first, where I was. But then they took me farther and farther away and I couldn’t keep up.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean tells him, because it’s true. “Where are you from?”

“Mikladalur,” the man says.

“Gesundheit,” Dean replies with a smile. The man (Dean really needs to remember his name) just tilts his head. “I’m sorry, man. Bad joke. Where is that?”

“On the island of Kalsoy, in the Faroe Islands,” he explains.

“I’ve never heard of them,” Dean admits, “But I got a map?”

The man seems to beam as he nods his head.

Dean ducks into the cabin and grabs his world map and a couple paperweights. He returns to the deck quickly and dumps his armful on the flat surface of the cabin roof. It’s the closest Dean has to a table. He tosses the paperweights in the four corners and beckons the man over. “So where’re these islands?”

Dark blue eyes take in the whole of the paper before he points at possibly the smallest cluster of islands on the whole thing. Dean tries not to let his shock show on his face. The Faroe Islands are nearly two hundred miles off the coast of Great Britain; half a world from where they bob in the Atlantic.

“Where,” the man coughs, “where are we?”

Dean doesn’t want to tell him. Considering how far from his home they are, he imagines the man has been away a very long time. He doesn’t want to hurt him even more. The man is insistent, though, staring at Dean with wide blue eyes. Dean clears his throat and points at the coast of Venezuela where they float.

He watches as the guy realizes what Dean did; that he is literally a whole ocean away from home. Then he picks up his seal skin, changes form, and jumps into the ocean.

Dean doesn’t pull in the anchor for three days.

He stays, bobbing, waiting for the man to return.

Maybe it has to do with his desire to help people. But for whatever reason, Dean can’t even fathom leaving alone anymore. He told the man, Castiel he remembered during a sleepless night two days ago, that he would help, and goddamn it he is going to do just that.

He spends his time adding a stop at the Faroe Islands into his schedule, salting the large fish that Castiel caught, and looking through his photos. He calls Sam once, but doesn’t know how to tell his brother about the man he’s waiting for.

On the third day, Dean is feeling restless. He thinks the think to cure it is a nice swim. It takes less than a second to strip off the loose shorts he was wearing. Once he’s free of the confinement he jumps into the blue sea.

Dean will never get over how indescribable it is to swim naked in such clear, warm water. He takes a deep breath and dives down. There are few fish around, and those that are don't seems to care about the naked human in their midst.

After nearly an hour Dean pulls himself onto Lady Colette and lays out on her narrow bow. He’s in the middle of a daydream about nothing in particular when he hears a splash to his right. Dean turns his head to see Castiel hanging from one arm off the side of the boat. His other hand is likely holding onto his seal skin. Dean would offer to take it from him, free his hands to hang on, but he gets the feeling nobody is allowed to touch it besides him.

“You’re still here,” he says.

“I made you a promise, Cas,” Dean replies. He turns on his side so he can face the other man. Part of him thinks he should be ashamed of his nudity, but ignores it. He’s only ever seen Castiel in the buff and the other man doesn't seem to care. “What do you say we get you home?”

Dean had planned to spend a week in Brazil, but decides it isn’t worth it. He is, frankly, anxious to get his passenger home. Castiel seems anxious too, though he is good at hiding it.

They don't talk much. Dean wishes they would, but he doesn’t know what to say.

He’s curious about Castiel. About where he came from and what it’s like. He is also curious about what exactly he is. He can’t just call him a seal-man forever.

Castiel spends his time equally as a man and as an animal. When he’s human he lounges around the boat, sometimes reading Dean’s books, sometimes just looking. As a seal he swims circles around the boat while Dean steers them east.

The Venezuelan coast isn’t visible behind them anymore, and the water is getting darker and darker as the head into the Atlantic. Dean is pulling out some of the salted fish from the small kitchen as well as a couple of mangos when he hears the splash as Castiel jumps back onto the deck.

“Cas? You hungry?" Dean calls. Castiel doesn’t answer. He’s still getting used to responding to Dean. He huffs a laugh and grabs a little extra, just in case.

Castiel is seated on the port side of the boat, with his feet hanging off the side. His seal skin is resting in a basket that Dean ziptied to the railing. Dean pauses, just for a moment, as he takes in the tanned skin of the man’s muscular back. The round globes of his ass are pressed into the wooden deck and Dean thinks that should not be as attractive as it is.

“Cas? Food?” He asks again once he gets a hold of himself.

Castiel shakes his head. “I ate already, but thank you.”

Dean nods and walks up to sit next to his companion. “How was your swim?”

“The water is too warm, but not unbearable,” Castiel answers.

“Yeah, I’d imagine where you’re from it’s a lot colder,” Dean muses. He picks some of the salted fish and mangoes from his plate with his fingers and shoves it into his mouth. He moans around the mouthful and swallows. “Man, whatever you’re catching is amazing.”

Castiel smiles subtly and ducks his head. “Back in my colony it was my job to feed the others. I became very proficient in picking the healthiest of the fish available.”

Dean realizes that this is the opening he needs. He can finally learn something about the other man, but he has to be careful. “Your colony? What is that like?”

“It is all I have ever known. For a while I thought I would want to be a soldier, protect the colony, but I found I enjoyed providing for my family.” Castiel crosses his arms on the railing and sets his chin on his stacked forearms. “I imaging they believe me to be dead, at this point.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Dean whispers. He reaches out to place a comforting hand on Castiel’s shoulder. The skin is warm and damp beneath his palm. “Can I, uh, can I ask you a question?” Castiel doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t say no either. Just looks at Dean with an open expression on his face. Dean takes that as permission. “What do you call yourself? Your colony, what are you guys?”

“We’re called Selkies,” Castiel explains.

“Selkies, huh? Cool,” Dean says with a smile. “What do you like more? Seal or man?”

Castiel seems to think for a moment before he looks back off towards the sea. “I enjoy both of my forms. Under normal circumstances I would probably say I enjoy my seal skin better than my human one. I’m stronger, freer, as a seal. But I like being human.” After a pause he adds, “I like talking to you.”

Dean is taken aback. That’s more than he was expecting to hear. “I like talkin’ to you, too, man.”

“Aren’t you worried about sharks?” Dean asks one day a week after they had left Venezuela.

Castiel is lying on the deck in his human skin after being in his seal one for nearly an hour. He had tossed half a dozen fish into the boat in that time. Dean is busy cleaning them up and preparing them to be preserved. He can’t help but think that with Castiel around he will spend this trip eating like a king.

The selkie doesn’t shift. He just shrugs his shoulders as well as he can from his spot. “No. I’m a predator just as much as they are. And I can hear them coming from a mile away.”

“That’s gotta come in handy,” Dean laughs.

“Is that why you’ve chosen not to swim since we left Venizulu?” Cas asks innocently.

“Venezuela. And yeah, dude. Sharks are scary.” Dean can’t hide a shudder.

Castiel sits up and turns to face the sailor. His legs are crossed underneath him and Dean focus his eyes to stay above the other man’s neck. “But you enjoy swimming?”

“‘Course I do,” Dean says quickly.

“Then we should swim,” Castiel replies decisively. He stands quickly, giving Dean a quick glimpse of his crotch, before executing a perfect dive off the starboard side of the boat. He surfaces a couple of minutes later with a soft smile. “There are no sharks nearby. Come on in, the water’s fine.”

Dean can’t help but throw his head back with another laugh. Castiel just tilts his head.

Without hesitation Dean strips out of his shorts and cannonballs into the Atlantic.

Even thought they’re a ways into the sea by now, the water is still warm. Not Caribbean warm, but not Maine cold either. Dean doesn’t even realize how much he’s missed the water until this second. He whoops and dives back under the water, doing a few front flips and spins while he’s down. When he pops up he is surprised to see Castiel’s face not a foot away from his own.

“I love the ocean, don’t you?” Cas asks innocently. Dean kicks to keep himself above water and feel his foot brush the other mans.

“Uh, yeah. I really do,” Dean breathes out. From this close up, Dean can see how Castiel’s blue eyes match the sea around him. Without his consent, Dean’s cock begins to stir. “Have you always lived in the sea?”

Castiel nods. “Yes. The longest I’ve had to stay on land was when I was in Venizulu.”

“What happened, Cas?” Dean finds himself asking. It’s something he’s wanted to ask for a while, but hasn’t had the courage to do.

Dean is close enough to see Castiel’s facial expression close off. Not all the way, but enough to know Dean’s not going to get an answer from him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Castiel nods and dives underwater again.

Well, then.

Dean is thankful that Castiel doesn’t hold Dean’s inappropriate question against him. It seems like selkies aren’t built to hold grudges.

They sail through beautiful seas the next day, taking intermittent breaks to swim when the water is shark free. Sometime between his second and third dip Dean decides to not bother with his shorts, when it is obvious he’s just going to take them off again.

Like he knew he wouldn’t, Cas hasn’t said anything or seemed to notice. He still gives Dean the same amount of attention as always.

It’s nice.

Dean has always loved the freeness of not wearing clothes. Now he has a chance to do just that. Sometimes he catches a glimpse of Castiel’s back or ass or chest and his dick will perk up, but Castiel doesn’t mention that either.

The only problem he's had with having Castiel around is the total lack of alone time.

It gets worst and worst the longer Dean goes without _cleaning the pipes_.

It’s just about sundown when Dean hears a soft splash. He’s gotten used to the subtle difference between the sound of a seal jumping into the water and a human. That sound was a seal. Just to make sure, Dean lifts his head from its position on the roof of the cabin and looks around. No Castiel in sight.

Dean lays back down and wonders if he’ll have enough time to relieve himself before Cas gets back. He figures, _fuck it_ , and slides his hand down to his already exposed cock.

He is fully hard in three stokes or less. The wind is blowing on his face, cooling his wet skin,  and making gooseflesh appear in its wake.

Dean’s never been the kind of man who needs to set a scene or play out some fantasy. Generally his hand or a few lubed up fingers are enough to get him off.

This time, a picture starts to paint itself before Dean can stop it.

It’s nothing grotesquely erotic. Just Cas. He’s floating in the blue water of the Caribbean, on his back, naked. His cock, which Dean has seen on an occasion or two, is only partially hard where it rests along the junction of his hips and leg. He’s not paying it any mind. He’s just floating, happy.

Dean lets out a soft moan. In his minds eye he is taking everything in. Every muscle and patch of hair. Even the out of control mess around his cock is wonderful to see.

He really wishes he had lube, right about now. Instead he lifts his free hand to his mouth and sucks on his pointer and middle finger. When they are nice and wet he moves them beneath his cock and over his balls. He gives the sack a little pull and hisses through his teeth while he squeezes his cock with his other hand. Then his fingers find his hole, where he rubs over the muscle with wet fingers. It’s not enough to penetrate, just to tease him to the edge.

Dean is so focused on his task, with his eyes screwed shut and his ears closed off to the world around him, that he doesn't hear the splash or water-over-rocks sound of Castiel shifting forms. What makes Dean’s eyes shoot open is the feeling of a seawater wet hand touch his cockhead. His gaze locks on Castiel’s and he does one of the most mortifying things he could have imagined.

He comes.

Hard.

Castiel watches, intrigued, as the slippery liquid coats his hand. He presses one come covered finger to Dean’s oversensitive slit, making the other man moan. Then he lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks a finger between his lips.

Dean is locked on the sight. Castiel seems to like what he tastes, because he is about to lick a second finger clean when Dean comes to his senses.

“Cas!”

“What is this?” The selkie asks as he continues to feel the liquid in his fingers. “It tastes like, I do not know how to describe it.” He moves to lick at the mess again but Dean stops him with a hand to his wrist.

“You can’t lick another man’s come, Cas,” Dean says slowly, evenly. He’s fighting to control his emotions. Anger, which is unfair because Castiel doesn’t know what he’s doing, but mostly embarrassment. And lust. Because whatever he’s telling the selkie, you can definitely lick another mans come, and in a number of funner ways that Dean can’t help picturing.

He realizes how far this conversation could go, how out of hand it could get, and decides he has to get as far away from it as possible.

“I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight, Cas,” Dean says quickly as he scrambles from his spot and into the cabin.

Dean collapses onto his bed face first, and pointedly ignores his cock that is somehow flaccid and excited at the same time.

Alcohol.

He needs alcohol.

Dean reaches into one of the cabinets by his bed and pulls out a dark bottle. He looks at the label with a frown. Dean knows he stowed a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue when he was packing, but somehow he pulled out spiced rum. The bottle is one of those souvenir ones, decorated with pirates and pirate ships with skull and crossbone flags.

“Sam,” Dean grumbles. Of course, the one time he really needs a whiskey and all he’s got is _rum_.

He ignores the voice that tells him this is a bad idea. The same voice that reminds him about the last time he drank rum ( _not_ a pleasant memory).

He pulls off the cork stopper with his teeth and spits it across the room.

The first swallow goes down not too terribly. Dean grimaces and takes a larger second chug.

“Drink up me hearties, yo, ho,” Dean says blankly.

It’s going to be a long night.


	3. New Experiences

Dean is starting to think that he is some kind of masochist.

He stands, looking down at his small duffle bag of clothes, and can’t bring himself to put any of them on. After what happened the night before Dean should be dressing in a parka, at the very least, but he just _can't_.

This is his boat, goddamn it, and if he wants to spend his day hanging loose then he is going to do just that.

With a self assured nod Dean stows his duffle back under the bed and crosses the small cabin. He opens the door quickly and breathes in the smell of the ocean.

For as long as Dean can remember, the ocean has had a calming effect on his psyche. He would even go as far as to say it soothes his very soul. A glance around tells him that Castiel isn’t on board and a second look in the little basket leads him to believe he’s in his seal skin somewhere.

That’s good, it gives Dean a chance to get his head on straight. Because despite his weirdness, Dean actually really likes Cas. He wants to be his friend, and he wont be able to if he keeps thinking about last night.

Just the though get’s Dean flushed all down his chest. No, he tells himself, this is not going to be weird.

With a loud splash Castiel jumps onto the boat with a large fish between his teeth. The seal throws back his head and tosses his catch towards Dean. On instinct, Dean tries to catch it, but fumbles it onto the deck. Castiel seems to find it funny and lets out the seal equivalent of a laugh.

“Shut up, man,” Dean grumbles. He bends down to pick up the fish and slaps it down on the cabin roof. “These things are slippery.”

Castiel _shrugs_ and shifts form. “Are you feeling better this morning, Dean? You were behaving oddly last night.”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, don’t worry about me, Cas. I’m fine.” Dean realizes it’s true. Something about Castiel’s naivety and clear blue eyes soothes Dean almost as much as the ocean air. “So, breakfast?”

Dean and Cas have a quick breakfast of fish and fruit, after which Dean jumps into the ocean to relieve his bladder and work out the his sore muscles. Castiel watches from the deck while he cleans his fish from the morning without having to look at his hands. Every once and a while he lifts a bite of raw meat to his lips and swallow it whole.

When Dean finally crawls back onto the boat he makes his way immediately to the wheel. He is determined to make some progress today, after too many days of just floating east. It’s nearing four in the afternoon when Dean decides to take a break. He ducks into that cabin, grabbing some snacks and the old guitar he purchased in the market.

He takes his goodies to the bow of the boat, where Castiel has sat with his old copy of _Slaughterhouse Five_ for the last hour.

Dean sits himself beside Cas and pulls the guitar into his lap. He experimentally strums a few string and winces at how out of tune it sounds, even to his untrained ear.

“What is that?” Cas asks. He reaches out a hand to pluck at the middle string the down to tap at the hollow body.

“It’s a guitar. A musical instrument,” Dean explains. He tightens a few strings and strums again. Better, but not good enough.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Castiel says in awe. He places _Slaughterhouse Five_ on a patch of deck behind them and turns to face Dean on his knees, resting his ass on his heels. His hands move like they want to reach out, but he refrains, placing them on his thighs. “How does it work?”

Dean chuckles. “Well I’m no Jimmy Page, man. I’ve never really played before. But, um, I’m pretty sure that when you pluck the strings,” he does so in demonstration, “it bounces around in here and that’s what you hear.”

“Why would you own an instrument if you don’t know how to use it?” Castiel asks.

“My mom,” Dean tells the other man. “She used to play, back when I was a kid. She played in the church band.”

Castiel tilts his head. “Does she no longer play?”

Dean clears his throat and looks down at the guitar in his hands. He moves his left hand into the neck and makes a chord he thinks he remembers his mom used to like. He strums and it sounds like he remembered. “She died.”

“Oh.” Dean looks up to see Cas looking down at his hands sadly. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Dean says quietly. They sit in silence aside from Dean’s absentminded plucking. After a while Dean shakes himself and places the guitar reverently on the deck. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a swim.”

Castiel smiles at his suggestion and jumps into he sea. Once he surfaces, he pulls his legs up until he is floating aimlessly. The image is so close to Dean’s imagining from the night before that his breath hitches. The selkie really looks beautiful.

Dean’s cock starts to take interest, which Dean ignores as he follows the other man into the water. The chilly water is a shock that he relishes, even if it doesn’t have the desired effect of cooling his libido.

When they are in the water neither man speaks. Castiel continues to just float, every once in a while turning his head to submerge his eat in the water.

(Dean learned pretty early on that the selkie did this to check for the sharks that Dean is sure will appear at some point.)

Time passes slowly. Dean tries not to watch the other man, but he finds his eyes gravitating that way every other second. Castiel just looks so at peace. How can Dean not when the selkie looks like a centerfold out of a mystical creature skin mag?

When his legs start to get tired he swims back to the boat and pulls himself onto the deck. He’s still partially hard, but he decides to not care about it. It’s hard to stress with saltwater on his skin, the deck at his back, and nothing but sky above him.

There is a soft splash and Dean instinctively turns his head towards the sound. Castiel is hanging off the port side of the boat but instead of looking Dean in the eye (as he tends to do often and intensively) he is looking down at Dean’s crotch.

Normally when a good looking person is eyeing Dean’s privates it's with lust or something like it in their eyes. This is nothing like that. Cas’ eyes are wide and full of intrigue and something akin to awe. Under the scrutiny Dean can feel himself stiffen until his cock rests against his soft stomach.

He watches as Cas seems to makes up his mind and move one hand from the deck and towards Dean’s skin. His breath hitches when Cas pauses with barely a hairs breath between them. His cock twitches and bumps Castiel’s palm.

This is so weird. Possibly the weirdest situation Dean has even been in in his whole life. And that includes the time he walked in on Sam pleasuring himself with an inflated arm floaty. They didn’t even own a pool.

Cas lets his hand relax until his palm is just pressing down on his dick. “Why do you feel so stiff here?”

“Uh,” Dean tries to clear his throat without it sounding like a moan. He manages. Barely. “It’s hard to explain.”

Castiel walks his fingers to the head, where he is red and starting to leak precome. “I’ve never seen this before. What does it mean?”

“It means I’m excited,” Dean says through clenched teeth. The feeling of _almost_ is driving Dean insane.

“Excited for what?” Cas asks.

Almost without his consent, Dean’s hips thrust up, seeking the pressure of Castiel’s hand. The selkie presses down and tangles his long fingers in Dean’s pubic hair. The pleasure is so close to just what Dean wants.

“Fuck, Cas. Uh, for sex normally,” Dean tells the selkie after a heavy exhale. Castiel doesn’t say anything to return and just presses down further. “Men get hard, like this,” Dean presses up into Cas’ hand, “because they’re turned on.”

“Are you turned on now?” Dean has heard this question a number of times in his life, but never in a voice so innocent. It should be illegal for Cas’ deep voice to sound that way.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean says.

Castiel tilts his head but doesn't remove his hand. “Why?”

The truth is on the tip of Dean’s tongue but he doesn’t know how the selkie would respond to knowing that it’s him that makes the human so hard. “It just feel good.”

“What do you do with it?” Castiel questions softly. Dean shifts his gaze from Cas’ hand and up to his face. He’s surprised to see the selkie’s pupils are dilated; black nearly eclipsing the blue.

It's just phone sex, Dean tells himself, just instead of telling his partner what to do to themselves he’s telling him what to do to himself. “I like to wrap my hand around my dick and move it up and down,” Dean explains. He lets out a moan when Castiel does just that. His grip is too loose but still feels damn near perfect. “You gotta squeeze it a little.”

The hand around him complies and soon Dean is thrusting up into the wet tunnel of Cas’ hand. He can feel his climax approaching and wants it to happen and never happen at the same time. “A little faster,” Dean moans.

Castiel nods and follows Dean’s instructions. When Dean comes, he lets out a string of expletives that would make any sailor blush and practically deflates on the deck.

“It’s very messy,” Castiel comments as he rolls the come around his fingers like he had last night. “And it feels good?”

“Very good, man,” Dean tells him. Then he adds, “Why don’t you try it?” because why not?

Dean expects Cas to shake his head, or disappear back into the water. What he does not expect is for Castiel to pull himself up onto the deck and sit himself down next to Dean’s hip. He leans back against the railing and stretches his legs over Dean’s lap. From Dean’s vantage point he has a perfect view of Castiel’s hard member. He’s impressed. The selkie is definitely a grower.

He lifts himself onto his elbow and watches silently as Castiel moves his come-covered hand towards his own cock and begin to touch. It’s all experimental, just like he touched Dean at first. He presses at it like a doctor would, not like someone seeking pleasure. Then he grabs it in a fist and makes an experimental stroke.

A moan falls from his lips. It’s full of such unexpected feeling that Dean is struck that this might really be the first time Cas has touched himself. At sometime he will ask him about that, but not now. He wants Cas to be able to feel the amazing high that comes with a good orgasm.

For a first timer, Castiel seems happy to take his time. He strokes lazily, feeling for what he likes. Sometimes he stops to press fingers to his uncut head, other times he just pauses in his thrusts to squeeze.

Dean can see the minute changes in his breathing when he is close to orgasm. The selkie takes in a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. On the exhale he lets out a positively pornographic moan and comes all over his hand and chest.

More than anything Dean wants to lick the mess from the other man’s tanned chest. Instead he asks, very softly, “Did that feel good?”

Castiel smiles lazily. His hand falls to his side, but because of their positioning it lands on Dean’s chest instead of the deck. Dean can feel their mixed juices add to the seawater slick of his chest and loves it. “Yes, Dean. That felt very good.”

After using a wet cloth dipped in ocean water to clean themselves off, Dean steps back behind the wheel. There is still some sun in the sky and he is determined not to let it go to waste. Castiel is back at the bow with Dean’s book. Dean keeps expecting him to act differently. Maybe jack off again or something, but he doesn't. He just reads, occasionally asking Dean to explain some word or phrase.

Dean is in a great mood. With the sea air in his nostrils and a great orgasm under his belt he finds it easy to slip into a kind of hypnotic state.

Time passes quickly and he doesn’t even realize the sun is setting until it is nearly to the horizon. He shakes himself out of his stupor and steps away from the wheel. Up at the bow Cas is dozing, and Dean enjoys just looking at him for a moment. The selkie is lying on his back with one arm behind his head like a pillow with the other resting across his stomach. His lips are raised in a small smile and Dean can’t bring himself to wake his new friend.

He busies himself with making dinner (beer battered fish with sea salt and vinegar chips) while he happily whistles Led Zeppelin under his breath. Halfway through a stellar rendition of Ramble On he hears the annoying chiming of his satellite phone and snags it from it’s perch on one of the cabin’s shelves.

He presses the answer button and sticks the thing between his ear and shoulder. “Hey, Sammy!” Dean says jovially. He smiles as he reaches for a beer from the cooler. He pops it open and takes a swallow as he hears Sam huff a sigh.

 _“Dean, you jerk! I haven’t heard from you in days. I was getting worried,”_ Sam scolds.

And okay, maybe Dean cringes a little. He has been nervous to talk to his brother with Cas around. “Sorry, baby brother, I’ve been busy.”

 _“How busy can you be, alone, in the middle of the atlantic?”_ Sam asks, but Dean can tell its a half hearted jibe. He knows his brother well enough to know that as soon as Sam heard his voice everything was forgiven.

Before he can lie about what he’s been doing he hears the deck creak as Cas appears at the door of the cabin. His hair is crazy and windswept and he scratches at his stomach idly. “What’s that smell?” He asks. He’s eyeing the frying pan with a hunger Dean’s only seen on his face when he managed to catch a particularly rare fish.

“I’m makin’ dinner,” Dean answers. Cas smiles a smile that cringes the skin around his eyes and Dean can feel his insides get all gooey.

Then he remembers what he was doing before Cas woke up and freezes. At some point he had dropped his hand holding the phone down to his side and he lifts it to his ear tentatively. _“Dean? Goddammit. Dean!”_

“Hey, Sammy, sorry about that,” Dean says awkwardly.

 _“Who the hell is that? I thought you were doing this alone?”_ He sounds like he is pacing. Dean would bet he’s pacing.

“It’s a long story, man.” Dean looks towards the selkie for some kind of help only to see the man trying to sneakily filch one of the pieces of battered fish. “Hey! Those are hot, man. Let them cool down a bit, okay?”

Castiel pouts (freakin’ pouts!) and turns big blue eyes on Dean. “When can we eat?”

“Just give me five minutes to talk to my brother, okay?” Dean can still hear Sam yelling to get his attention to get his attention, but ignores it for now.

“I suppose I can do that. I’m going to go for a quick swim before then,” Castiel says just before he slips into his seal skin.

“Be safe,” Dean calls to him. The seal just smiles, showing off sharp teeth, and barks in understanding.

Once Cas has slipped into the water Dean lifts the phone back to his ear.

Silence.

He checks the display, and it says Sam is still connected. “Sammy?”

 _“What the hell was that, Dean?”_ Sam asks quietly. _“Was that a seal?”_

Dean scratches the back of his neck. “So I might not have told you everything about Venezuela.”

Sam scoffs. _“What is that supposed to mean?”_

“God, I'm going to sound so crazy,” Dean groans.

 _“Just spit it out,”_ Sam says gently.

“Have you ever heard of a Selkie?” Dean chooses to say. If Sam says yes, then maybe this will be easier than Dean thought.

 _“Like the creature that's half seal and half man?”_ Sam sounds skeptical. Whatever. At least it’s something.

“Yeah, that.” Dean takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders before powering on. “So when I was at that market in Maiquetía I saw this really shady guy at one of the stands and he had this seal in a tiny cage and I don’t know. I couldn’t leave the thing there. So I bought it. I don’t know what I was thinking, just that I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I left it. Anyway, that night I wake up to this guy on my boat. He’s totally spooked and barely manages to tell me his name before he turns into a fucking seal in front of my eyes.”

Dean pauses. Then Sam snaps, _“Are you kidding me right now?”_

“No, Sammy, God’s honest truth! His name is Castiel and he’s from some island by Scotland. I’m taking him home,” Dean snaps back.

Silence. _“Have you been drinking seawater?”_

“No! I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m telling you the truth,” Dean says quietly. “He was all alone, man. And he’s cool. He catches fresh fish for us and has this shark sonar so we can go swimming, and he likes to read Vonnegut even though he doesn’t really understand it.”

 _“Wow. You like this guy, don't you?”_ Trust Sammy to just bypass the information that selkies exist and go right to the mushy stuff.

“He’s been a good friend, Sam. That’s it,” he says just as Castiel splashed back on the boat. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? And you don’t think I’m crazy?”

Sam sighs but it sounds more exasperated than anything, _“I think you’re a little crazy, not going to lie, but I also know you wouldn’t just make this up. But believe me I’m going to do some research tonight.”_

“I would be concerned if you didn’t,” Dean tells his brother with a smile. “Night Sammy. Tell Uncle Bobby I say hey.”

 _“Will do. Love you, Dean,”_ Sam says around a yawn.

“You too, man,” Dean replies with a grin. He hangs up the phone and places it back on the shelf and turns to where Cas is standing in the doorway. “That was my brother,” he explains. “He’s a freshman at Stanford.”

Castiel furrows his brow. “I don’t know what that is, but it sound like you are very proud of him.”

“I am. Did you have a nice swim?” He asks, because it’s still hard to talk about Sam without missing him enough to hurt.

“It was very refreshing.” Castiel looks at the stove, then back at Dean. “Can we eat now?”

Dean throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, man. Let’s eat.”

That night Dean lies in his bed with a full stomach and a smile on his face. He spent the evening regaling Cas with stories about his little brother. He told him about the first time Dean took him out on the catamaran and how the dorky eleven year old had thrown up everywhere and then lost one of his sneakers over the edge. Castiel seemed happy too. He was laughing at all of the stories while shoveling the fried fish in his mouth. The selkie normally scoffed at eating cooked meat, but seemed to love the dinner Dean made.

According to the clock on the cabin wall it was nearly midnight before Dean retired to his bed.

Dean is nearly asleep when his ears pick up a soft sound coming from outside. It’s quiet, muffled, but it doesn’t take long before Dean recognizes it for what it is.

Castiel is just out there. And by the sound of it he is touching himself, just like Dean taught him.

Dean’s hand travels to his own cock and lazily moves up and down. It doesn’t take long before he is hard, but even then it’s not the persistent kind of hard that demands to be stroked. Instead it’s like the comfort of a hard mattress. It's the kind of hard that he could take care of now, or in the morning, and he doesn’t really care which. He just touches himself softly, until he hears his friend moan through his orgasm.

He smiles, happy he could teach the selkie something, before rolling over and going to sleep.


	4. Airing the Truth

Dean is swimming.

The water around him is dark and cold, but he can’t feel it. It reminds him of winters in Maine, where he would pile blankets on his bed before sleeping. He knew, instinctively, that the world outside his covers was cold but for those moments before truly waking he was warm and safe.

His body cuts through the water like lightning. He smiles and spins.

Off to his left he sees a medium sized fish and thinks he should bring it home for dinner, but chooses against it. The fish probably has a family of its own and Dean doesn’t really need another fish.

He watches the sunset through the water and figures he’s had his fun and that it’s time to head home. He turns his body towards the west and pushes himself harder until the sandy sea floor turns rocky and shallow.

Suddenly he breaks the water’s surface and jumps into a cave inlaid in the rock-face. Inside there is what passes for a kitchen (a table, some plates and silverware, and a few coolers) and a small satellite television. Further back he sees a mound of blankets. That is his destination.

Everything seems larger than it should, but Dean doesn’t phase him. He smiles as he passes the boring stuff and goes directly for his bed. Something moves under the covers and Dean sighs in contentment.

He stands and feels the water slip off him like a coat, leaving tingles in its wake. He looks down and wiggles his toes. Beneath his feet is his seal skin, he gently pushes it to she side, where it settles against his mate’s.

“Dean?” A voice calls from the bed. “What are you waiting for? Get in here.”

Dean doesn’t hesitate as he jumps into the blankets and burrows under them where its warm and smells like home.

He comes face to face with Castiel, who is smiling and has creases on his face from the pillows.

“Hey, babe,” Dean says softly. “I missed you.”

Castiel leans forward. Dean puckers his lips, waiting for the kiss he knows is coming.

Then he wakes up.

Even though the dream was vivid and jarring, it was also _nice_.

He’s always felt at home when he was on a boat or near the water, but that feeling was dwarfed in comparison to the phantom love he felt buried under those blankets with Castiel. Not to mention the feeling of swimming through the water as a seal. Because that’s what he was. He had been a selkie for those few blissful moments.

Dean stays happy throughout the day. He laughs with Cas and even sticks a fishing rod over the starboard side for the afternoon. He thinks he caught something, but soon hears Castiel’s seal bark from the water. The seal has been intermittently pulling on the bait just to play with him. It’s something Dean would do and it makes him smile.

Sam calls, like he told Dean he would. He seems reluctant to just _believe_ Dean, but he doesn’t seem to think he’s totally crazy either. Also, according to his research, Castiel is more likely to get hurt from Dean than vice versa. He also seems shocked that Cas will just leave his seal skin lying around. The brothers converse about other things as well. Sam is enjoying Stanford so far and has made a few friends, Brady is his dorm-mate and Jess is a pretty blonde in a few of his classes.

The good feelings carry on for the next day and pretty soon Dean finds himself halfway across the atlantic. He’s a little behind schedule, but not so much that he feels rushed. The only downside is the changing weather. He’s had to go back to wearing clothes, which is disappointing. Even Castiel has chosen to throw on Dean old sweatpants when he’s in his human skin. Dean thinks it has less to do with the cold and more to do with Dean’s choice to wear clothes.

In the evenings they play card games in Dean’s cabin, and Dean introduces the selkie to hot chocolate.

Dean still wants to ask Castiel questions, about being a selkie and about what happened to him, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Cas just seems so happy. The pair have fallen into this skewed domestic bliss and Dean doesn’t want to do anything to break it.

“Dean?” Castiel asks from his spot on the bed against the cabin wall, startling Dean out of his thoughts.

Dean turns from the stove where he is cooking popcorn and turns towards his friend. “Yeah?”

“There is something I would like to try. I’ve only seen it. Back home. Would that be okay?” The selkie moves to the foot of the bed and places his bare feet on the wooden floor.

“Of course, man. What is it?” Dean flicks off the stove and puts the jiffy-pop on a cool element. He sits next to Cas on the bed and twists to face him.

“I don’t know what it’s called,” Castiel explains with a furrowed brow. “But they seem to enjoy it. It has always looked nice.”

Then Cas kisses him. It’s sloppy and exploratory. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his lips, but they feel good against Dean’s all the same. Part of Dean wants to take over, push the other man back and show him just how good kissing can feel, but this isn’t about that. This is Castiel’s _first kiss_ and he should be in charge of how it goes.

Eventually he remembers his hands, and soon there is a warm palm against Dean’s jaw. The other presses against Dean’s chest right above his heart. The organ seems to beat faster under the other mans palm.

It’s so innocent.

Dean remembers his first kiss as a press of lips caused by hormones that was over as quick as it began. It was nothing like this.

This is soft and tender. With no need to go beyond that.

Then Castiel pulls away. He’s smiling.

“Thank you, Dean, I have always wondered what that felt like.” Then Castiel scoots back to his previous spot on the bed and picks up Dean’s book of sudoku puzzles.

“You’ve never kissed someone before?” Dean asks. He half-heartedly think about finishing with the popcorn, but can’t seem to pull himself away from the bed. There is something fundamentally wrong with Castiel’s people if nobody has taken the chance to kiss him. Castiel is decidedly good looking and kind. It seems like someone would have seen that and picked him as a boyfriend, or something.

“Kissed?” Castiel tilts his head to the side as he asks and it’s one of the most endearing things Dean has ever seen.

Dean turns around and crosses his legs on the mattress. He figures for this conversation Castiel deserves his full attention. “Yeah, kissed. That’s what that is called. A kiss. Why haven't you ever done it?”

“I’ve never had occasion,” Castiel mumbles with flushed cheeks. “I was never considered a very desirable mate, because I chose to provide for my colony, as the women do, instead of protect it. I spent the majority of time with my sister, Hannah, and she wasn’t very interested in ‘kissing’ either.”

Dean feels a part of his head break for his friend, who was ostracized because he went against the social norms. “That sounds lonely, man.”

Castiel clears his throat and picks at a loose thread on the sweatpants he is wearing. “I didn’t mind. I’ve always liked being alone, until recently at least.”

Dean isn’t stupid. He know’s Castiel is talking about himself, and he’s selfishly happy for that, because now he knows his feelings aren’t completely unrequited. The more Dean thinks about Castiel, the more he wants to broach the topic of _feelings_ with the other man. They talk more than Dean has ever talked with anyone, they’ve been physical, and now they’ve kissed. In Dean’s book they are practically boyfriends already.

But the idea of being Castiel’s boyfriend terrifies Dean, because he would hate to do something to screw it up.

Then he thinks about that dream and it had been so perfect; everything that Dean has ever wanted in his life.

Dean looks at the selkie in his bed with his messy hair and beautiful eyes and finds himself in a sort of awe. “You’re something special, man,” he says quietly and earnestly.

Castiel smiles at him shyly before ducking his head back down. “I am not, but it makes me happy that you think so, Dean.”

Without giving it much thought Dean crawls across the bed on his hands and knees and lifts Cas’ chin with a finger. When he meets Castiel’s eyes with his own he gives the selkie a wide smile and places another fleeting kiss on his pink lips. “Trust me, Cas,” he whispers against the other mans lips.

“Okay,” Castiel replies.

To Dean’s delight the kissing keeps happening. It’s not something they talk about, even though they probably should. It just becomes normal. Castiel gets wonderfully good at it; good enough to make Dean’s toes curl on occasion.

Every day Dean thinks about talking to Cas about his feelings, but every day he finds a reason to put it off. First, because Castiel wont feel the same way. Then because they could never work out. And on and on until Dean does’t know which way it up. It gets so bad that Dean knows he only has one option.

He waits until nightfall.

Castiel is stripping down to go for his evening swim. Dean is standing behind the wheel and gives Cas a little wave. Cas smiles and crosses the boat to give Dean one of the toe-curling kisses and dives into the water.

Dean doesn’t even wait until the silence after the splash before he’s racing into the cabin and ripping the satellite phone off the wall. With shaking fingers he dials the number of the only person he can trust with his feelings.

“Sam?” Dean says as soon as he hears the click of the phone being picked up in California.

 _“Dean? What the hell?”_ His brother asks confusedly.

“So something happened,” Dean says quietly. He sits himself on the cabin steps and tries to control his breathing.

He hears a rustling, like paper being pushed around, then his brother’s worried voice travels through the line. _“Are you okay?”_

Dean rubs his hand over his mouth then down the side of his neck. “Yeah yeah, man. Everything’s good, I guess. Uh-”

 _“You’re freaking me out, man. Just tell me.”_ Sam sounds less worried and more annoyed now.

“Okay, so you know about Cas, right? I mean, of course you do,” Dean mumbles. There’s an exasperated sigh and he hurries to get to the point. “Okay! Well, you see, we’ve kinda been doing… stuff.”

 _“Stuff?”_ Sam asks.

“Yeah, stuff. Really nice stuff. Like… kissing and stuff, and I think I might kinda like him, but I don’t know what to do about it,” Dean explains. He got so quiet near the end it would be surprising if Sam even heard him. Nothing. Dean checks the phone to make sure his call didn’t get disconnected. It didn’t. “Sam?”

Then he hears it. A quiet, muffled laugh.

“Sam!” Dean snaps.

 _“I’m sorry, man, I really am,”_ Sam manages to say between giggles.

“Fuck you. I’m coming to you for help, Sammy!” Dean feels himself scowl like a perturbed teen, but can’t really help it.

 _“I guess I just don’t get what you need help with,”_ Sam says a little calmer than normal. _“I mean if you like the guy then do something about it.”_

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, thanks a lot, captain obvious.” Dean’s fingers itch for a cigarette, even though he’s never smoked, just for something to do with his hands. “It’s crazy, though, right? I mean he’s a selkie, he has his own people, and for all I know he doesn’t even feel the same way I do.”

 _“Dean. I may not know the guy, but I’ve heard you talk about him enough to know that he seems pretty straight forward,”_ Sam says. _“I think you should just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”_

“Uh- the worst that could happen is he could say no and then I’m stuck on my damn boat with him for another month, at least!” Dean switches the phone to his other ear and wipes his sweaty hand on his thigh.

 _“I really doubt that, Dean,”_ Sam replies. _“Just try it. Trust me.”_

Dean thinks about it, and is about to say no, but then theres a soft splash on deck. His heartbeat goes a little wobbly at the idea of Cas being nearby and he figures he kinda has his answer. He hurries a goodbye to his brother and hangs up the phone. He throws the thing on his bed and jumps up onto the deck. Castiel is just pulling a threadbare pair of sweats over his hips when he see’s Dean, who must look like a crazy guy because Cas tilts his hear worriedly.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” Castiel asks in that earnest way that makes Dean feel warm inside.

Dean shakes his head of its fuzziness and nods. “Yeah. Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas moves to stand in front of Dean and waits.

“Ooh-kay,” Dean mumbles. “So, Cas, here’s the thing. You know the stuff we’ve been doin’? The kissing and _other_ stuff?” Cas nods but stays quiet. “Well that’s stuff that couples do.”

“Couples?” Cas asks with a head tilt.

Fuck, Cas had explained it another way. Dean racks his brain for the right word. “Mates! It’s a thing that mates do, right?” Cas gives another, more tentative, nod. “Well I’ve just been thinkin’ and- uh- you can totally say no, but I’ve been thinkin’ that I’d kinda like that, you know?”

Cas gives Dean a surprised look as he asks quietly, “You’d like to be my mate?”

“I mean, yeah. If you would like to, that is,” Dean replies tentatively.

Castiel’s answer is a firm, happy press of lips.

Surprisingly, and not at all surprisingly at the same time, being with Castiel in a capacity more than friends doesn’t really change things. They still kiss, and they touch, and talk. Dean finds himself happier as he’s ever remembered being. Castiel is funny in a dry and naive way. He finds ways to brighten Dean’s day, whether with a fresh fish or a well placed kiss.

The only thing that has changed is that at night they’ve taken to sharing Dean’s bed in the cabin. It happened naturally, when the nights grew too cold for Cas to sleep on the deck. He grumbled at first about not being able to smell the ocean, but quickly got over it when faced with a bed warmed by the body of another.

Sometimes in the morning they will exchange lazy hand jobs, and sometimes not. They never go beyond that, though. Dean quickly realizes that he doesn’t really care one way or the other. He’s just happy that he can hold Cas, or be held by Cas, all night long.

One night, as they are settling down for bed, Castiel turns in Dean’s arms so they are face to face. “Dean?”

“Yes, Cas?” Dean asks with a lazy, lifted brow. He’s already nearing sleep, and getting closer with every second.

“I think I would like to tell me how I was captured.”

That wakes Dean up in a second. It’s something that has been nagging him since he found the selkie in Venezuela. But every time he even starts to mention it, Cas clams up. He’s been determined to give him space, so that he can tell Dean when he feels ready.

“Okay, but only if you really want to,” Dean assures him.

“I want to.” Castiel pushes Dean’s shoulder so he is forced to lay on his back and settles with his cheek over Dean’s heart. “While I was generally left alone by my people, I was still aware of colony politics. When someone new moves onto colony land we are made aware of it by the local government. Anyway I, like everyone else, knew about the man who had moved into an old fishing house on one of our islands. We all assumed he was not aware of our existence. We were foolish.”

Castiel pauses and shuffles closer to Dean’s side. Dean in turn wrapped his arms around the selkie that much tighter.

“This man had been watching the colony, unbeknownst to us, for months. I was fishing on a less popular side of the island when he found me. I tried to get away, but he shot me with something, right here,” Castiel says as he points to his shoulder with a free hand. “It stung like a jellyfish, and the next thing I knew I was in that crate.”

“Oh, Cas,” Dean says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

The selkie places a soft kiss right above Dean’s nipple and tilts his head. His smile is watery, but so soft and bright. “You have no reason to be sorry for something you had no control over. And besides, you saved me, Dean. I don’t know how I will ever be able to thank you for that.”

Dean bends his head down and kisses Cas on his ready mouth. The kisses are heavier than they normally are, laced with something like gratitude. It goes to Dean’s head like helium. Fluidly Castiel rolls his body so he is on top of Dean; flush from shoulders to toes. His tongue slips from between his lips and Dean opens his mouth to receive it. Dean moans low in his throat as he feels Cas’ tongue fuck into his mouth.

His boyfriend, or mate, or whatever, has never been this forward and it makes his cock harden between their bellies. He feels as Castiel’s stiffens as well.

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Dean groans when Cas’ hips make a particularly gratifying thrust.

“Dean. _Oh_! This feels so… different,” Castiel moans. He rolls his hips again, and again, until Dean is practically vibrating with feelings.

Dean kisses whatever skin he can reach, be that Castiel’s lips or shoulders or neck. He stays to suck a dark bruise into the hollow of the selkies throat when he hears the other man’s moan intensify. His skin tastes like salt water taffy when it is covered in sweat and Dean can’t seem to get enough.

He wonders what the man’s come would taste like, if just his sweat is enough to make Dean shoot his load, but he figures that is a question for another day. At this point Dean couldn’t stop driving his cock against Castiel’s if someone put a gun to his head.

All too soon he finds himself at the pinnacle of what is no doubt going to be a glorious orgasm, and hopes Castiel is there with him. He doesn’t have to articulation to ask, but Cas probably couldn't answer anyway. Instead he just follows his instinct and keeps moving as he has been.

Just as he feels his balls tighten, ready to explode, he brings his mouth down to Castiel’s throat and bites down.

The selkie practically screams as he comes between their bodies and Dean follows seconds later. Dean feels his cock spasm for a good thirty seconds, spilling more seed than he ever has before.

Castiel slumps on top of him and is practically purring, even as his cock jumps with aftershocks.

“I think you’re amazing, Cas,’ Dean manages to say once his heart rate normalizes. Dean feels the selkie press a kiss to his collarbone, then stifle a yawn with Dean’s shoulder. “Tired?”

“Very much so,” Cas answers. “That was very enjoyable.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Dean says with a laugh.

“Let’s do it again in the morning.” Castiel rolls off, not caring about the drying come, and pulls Dean into his arms.

It took some getting used to, being the little spoon, but Dean’s found the he secretly loves it. “I’d really like that,” Dean says around his own yawn. “Nighty-night, Cas.”

“Sleep well, Dean,” Cas replies honestly.

And unsurprisingly, Dean does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like such a horrible author when my chapters take this long. The good news is I am basically done with Fall Term at my university and I have made it my goal to finish this story before Winter Term, though I will give myself props if I can do it before Christmas. 
> 
> Your kudos, comments and good juju will do nothing but help me achieve this! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!


	5. Leaps and Bounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to be as accurate with places/people in this chapter. If I got anything wrong please don't hesitate to let me know.

Dean wakes before Cas. The cabin is chilly and damp with morning air, but under the blanket it feels like the best sauna Dean’s ever been in. Castiel’s body is flush against his and the selkie is breathing in little huffs that tickle the hair above Dean’s ear. Dean can’t help but smile, he’s so happy.

He also realizes that he is hard, and it only takes a little wiggle to feel that Cas is too.

Back home, Dean had his fair share of bedwarmers. Their nights were spend frantically, fueled by drunken passion. Those nights were amazing, but Dean always preferred the mornings. He liked the act of just giving to another person lazily, just because. And he wanted to do that, now, for Cas. He wanted to give his _mate_ something he had never had before.

Carefully, so as to not wake his partner, Dean peels down Castiel’s borrowed pajama pants until his stiff cock slaps gently against his belly. As far as cocks go, Castiel’s has got to be one of Dean’s favorites. Keeping his eyes on Cas’ sleeping face, Dean licks a broad stripe from root to tip. Cas doesn’t budge in his sleep, but his cock has another mind entirely. It twitches excitedly, smearing pre-come on Dean’s cheek.

Dean chuckles at the dick’s impatience.

He doesn’t want to keep it waiting any longer, so he dives back in. First he takes the tip into his mouth, collecting the beading pre-come with the tip of his tongue. He was right last night, Castiel’s come tastes like nothing he has ever had before. It’s salty and sweet like the best saltwater taffy he's ever had.

Dean had meant to go slowly, take his time with it, but with the exquisite taste of Castiel’s come on his tongue it is impossible not to do full speed. He sinks down on Cas’ member until he can feel the head bump the back of his throat. Even then he doesn't stop. He relaxes his throat enough to allow the cock farther, until he has his nose buried in Cas’ unruly bush. He inhales the musky scent as he swallows.

He feels Cas shift, and pulls back so just the tip is in his mouth. Dean glances up and locks eyes with Castiel.

Castiel, who is normally so grumpy in the morning, looks completely aware and full of lust. Dean seals his lips and sucks, coaxing more pre-come into his mouth.

“Dean,” Cas moans. His hands are fisting the sheets, and Dean thinks that just won’t do. With his mouth still attached to Cas’ weeping dick, he grabs the selkie’s hands in his own and places them on his head. Immediately Cas’ fingers thread through his hair, which is long enough now to pull.

Dean would smile, if his lips weren’t otherwise engaged. He bobs his head down, then up. Down and up, Faster and faster. Castiel’s fingers tighten on his hair as his hips thrust up, seeking the deeper heat of Dean’s throat.

Dean’s own cock is leaking in his pants, and he ruts against the mattress to get some kind of friction.

Castiel’s moans get louder. They volley between Dean’s own name, choice curses he’s learned from Dean, and something else Dean doesn’t understand. His voice is guttural and deep. Dean realizes the selkie is speaking in his native tongue and it is possible the hottest thing Dean has ever heard.

“Yes! Oh, Dean,” Castiel practically screams. Dean can feel the dick in his mouth pulse, and pulls off quickly. He looks up and watches Castiel as the selkie watches himself come all over Dean’s face.

Dean flicks out his tongue and licks a bead of come off his lower lip. Castiel groans at the sight and pulls Dean up so they are chest to chest. He lifts his right hand cups Dean’s cheek. Gently he smears his own come into the skin of Dean’s face and down towards his neck. His nose follows the trail his hand made, breathing in loudly.

“You smell like me, now,” he says softly, reverently. “You smell like you’re _mine_.”

Dean groans and rolls his hips down. His cock is fit to burst, and Cas effectively claiming him is only pushing him further. “Cas. Please.”

Castiel slips one hand down between their bodies and inside Dean’s pants to grip his cock. His other slides up his bare chest and pinches Dean’s nipple.

The duel sensations are enough to throw Dean over the edge. With a cry he comes all over Cas’ hand. He collapses against Castiel’s chest happily, not caring one bit about the wet mess in his pants. If anything, the warm come only adds to his contentment.

“Dean, what was that?” Castiel asks, voice full of awe.

“That, babe, was a blow job,” Dean whispers. “Did you like it?”

Castiel actually laughs as he bends to sniff at Dean’s neck again. “Yes. That made me very happy.”

“Good.” Dean rolls off Cas reluctantly and stands, shimmying out of his pants as he goes. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I could use a swim.”

Cas sits up on the bed, darting out to grab Dean’s hand. “But then you won’t smell like me.”

Dean just gives his mate a wink. “Don’t worry. There are other ways to fix that later.” He bends down to kiss Cas’ pulse point, then bites the soft skin gently. “You coming?” He asks with a wink.

Blow jobs are added to Dean and Castiel’s routine. Like kissing, Cas shows that he is a very quick learner. He sucks at Dean’s cock like it holds all the answers in the world. Dean has never felt worshiped before, like he does when he has Cas’ mouth in his crotch.

And as much as he loves it, because he does, he can’t help but want to take it further. Every time Dean licks at his cock he thinks about that same tongue on his hole. When he swallows down Cas’ cock he imagines it sinking into his ass instead.

The problem is Dean doesn’t know how to ask for this. In the past, his partners have always known that honest fucking was the next step. It wasn’t something he’s had to explained since his first time when he was seventeen.

Some mornings he wakes first to Cas sleepily thrusting his cock between Dean’s thighs, and he thinks it would be so easy to ask for more. Or how simple it would be to tilt his hips just so and move Cas’ mouth to where he really wants it.

No matter how bad Dean wants it, though, he does’t do either of those things. Because deep down he thinks he really loves the creature, and that maybe Cas feels the same way, and he doesn’t want to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to agonize it for very long. It’s midday and Dean had spent the morning behind the wheel. He figured they are only a day or two out of Senegal, which puts him right on schedule. He makes the decision that a break and nice swim are in order, as a kind of celebration. Castiel needs very little convincing to join him.

They swim around the boat together, trading lazy kisses and gentle strokes to each others cocks that don’t lead anywhere. By the time Dean pulls himself on deck he is blissfully hard. It might be strange to some how often Dean finds himself aroused without any burnin desire to orgasm. It seems, that with Cas, he knows it will happen eventually and that the slow build will only make it better in the long run.

He lays down on the deck and soaks in the suns rays. It’s getting warmer again, and he doesn’t have to rush to throw on his clothes. There is a quiet splash, and then Castiel is beside him. His front is flush against Dean's side, his equally hard cock resting against Dean’s hip. Absentmindedly Dean reaches down to pet at it fondly. It twitches and Cas smiles against Dean’s neck.

“I wish I could be this close to you, always,” Cas says softly. He punctuates the sentence by wiggling as close to Dean as he can get. He trails open-mouthed kisses along the column of Dean’s neck and fingers Dean’s nipple with his pruny fingers. “Closer, if that even exists.”

Castiel’s subtle ministrations cause Dean’s breath to catch, and he tilts his head, giving Cas even more access to his throat.

“I would be inside of you if I could,” the selkie adds.

 _Now's your chance_ , Dean thinks.

“You can, if you’d like,” Dean whispers.

Cas pauses in his kisses and looks up at Dean. “What do you mean?”

“I want you inside of me, Cas,” Dean says. “I’ll show you how.”

The selkie surges forward and presses his lips against Dean’s. Their is a need behind the kiss that is wholly new for the pair and it fills Dean's stomach with butterflies. They kiss until Dean runs out of air in his lungs. “Come on,” Dean says as he stands and pulls Cas to his feet. Quickly Dean pulls his mate to the boat cabin. While Cas sits in the center of the bed, Dean opens cabinet after cabinet until he finds the one where he stashed lube. Once he has the lube in hand he goes back to Cas and sits himself in the selkie’s lap.

He kisses Cas again, because he wants to, and arranges himself so Cas’ hard cock is nestled between his ass cheeks. As he rolls his hips he can feel the head catch on his rim, and moans.

With shaking hands he pops open the small bottle and squeezes a decent amount of lube on his fingers. As Cas watches, Dean reaches behind himself and teases himself with the tip of a finger. When he knows he can take it, he dips the finger inside of himself and exhales a moan.

Castiel watches his face with wide eyes as his hips thrust up instinctually. “Dean,” he groans.

“Shh,” Dean coo’s, “it’ll be worth it.”

Castiel nods trustingly and strokes his palms up and down Dean’s trembling thighs.

With a smile Dean adds a second finger, twisting and scissoring to speed up the process. His fingers reach his prostate, and he gives it a single stroke before pulling away. He adds a third finger, just for a moment, to make sure he is loose enough before pulling his whole hand away.

The lube bottle is opened again and Dean pours a healthy amount into his palm. He catches Cas’ gaze as he reaches around and this time strokes the liquid on the selkie’s hot, hard shaft. Cas closes his eyes in bliss and thrusts up. “ _Dean!_ ” he moans.

“Just wait, baby. It gets better,” Dean tells him. Then he lifts himself onto his knees, positions Cas’ slick cock at his hole and sinks down slowly.

Castiel’s eyes bug out, then nearly roll in the back of his head, the further down Dean goes. When Dean finally bottoms out Cas let out a moan and falls backward against the bed. Dean smiles as he wiggles his hips back and forth, forcing another moan from his mate.

The feeling of being full, and not just full but full of Cas, makes him feel warm and tingly in all of the best ways. He wants to move, really fuck himself on Castiel’s cock, but he waits and gives the selkie time to adjust.

“You feel,” Dean says, “incredible. So perfect.”

Castiel replies in his native tongue, and Dean can’t help but move. Something about that wet, thick language does something to him. Cas repeats himself, and Dean thinks he’s maybe asking for more; so Dean gives it to him.

His pace is steady at first, more rolling than anything, until he feels Cas start to thrust up. After that he can’t help but set a brutal pace. He lifts himself to his knees, until only the head of Cas’ cock is inside him, before slamming back down. Every thrust slides over his prostate and Dean feels himself get closer to the edge. It’s a good thing, too, because he can feel Castiel’s thrusts get more erratic.

“Dean. I’m-” Cas moans. “Yes, please Cas. Come. Come _in_ me,” Dean groans without stopping his hips from moving.

Castiel throws his head back and practically screams Dean’s name as he comes. Dean feels it, every spurt of come, and keeps fucking down. Cas’ cock, even softening, hits every sensitive wall inside of him.

As Castiel’s cock slips free Dean doesn’t find himself empty for long, as he feels Cas’ long fingers take its place. Dean moans anew at the sensation and keeps thrusting until he is coming, untouched, over Castiel’s stomach. As the aftershocks zing through his body he collapses onto his stomach beside Cas.

The selkie keeps his fingers inside Dean’s hole, effectively keeping his come inside. Anytime Dean feels some seep out, Cas pushes it back in. “Now you truly smell like me, Dean,’ he whispers against Dean’s shoulder.

“Good,” Dean says around a yawn. “‘m yours,” he adds as he clenches his ass around Cas’ fingers. Dean can feel Castiel’s smile.

“Dean?” Castiel asks after a minute of silence.

“Yeah?” Dean replies sleepily. Castiel shifts so he is facing Dean’s body, and pulls Dean to mirror him. “Is this what love feels like?”

Not feeling quite so sleepy anymore, Dean looks at Cas’ honest and open face. “Yeah, Cas. I think it does.”

Dean drops anchor in Dakar, Senegal in the late afternoon a day and a half later. He dresses in a pair of shorts and an ACDC t-shirt, while Cas dresses in a loose pair of linen pants and a white v-neck t-shirt. They hop off the deck (Dean a little gingerly considering his tender ass) and make their way towards town. They don’t hold hands, but they walk close enough to bump shoulders.

Castiel’s eyes bounce around, like he doesn’t know what to look at first. It’s the kind of wonder that Dean likes to see in others.

The market is similar to the one in Venezuela, except the vendors are greeting them in French, which Dean has a better time understanding. They wander the stores, buying a mixture of trinkets and supplies, and share happy glances.

At the center of the market is a group of young men with dark skin who are beating on drums to make lively music. A little girl in a yellow dress dances in front of them with the kind of wild abandon only children have. She sees them watching and flashed them a dazzling, white-toothed smile. Castiel returns it and waves. The girl giggles as she keeps dancing.

“I’ve never seen so many people, Dean,” Cas remarks, turning his grin towards Dean. “Is everywhere like this?”

“Kinda, Cas,” Dean says. “Come on, let’s get some food.”

Dean leads them towards a circle of vendors selling local food stuffs. When they both have take-away bowls of heavily spiced fish in hand they find a seat at a nearby bench. They eat together in a comfortable silence, content to listen to the people move around them.

By the time they finish their food it is almost dusk, and the pair hurry to get themselves and their purchases to the boat. They make it, just in time, to see the sunset over the horizon. As the bright orange fills the sky, Dean reaches over and laces his fingers with Castiel’s.

After the orange fades to black the two retreat to the cabin and curl up together in their bed.

The next morning they set sail again, this time heading north along Africa’s west coast. They stay close enough that Dean can still see land, but far enough that Cas feels comfortable swimming alongside the boat in his seal skin.

It takes them a good week to travel the African coast. They spend their days fishing, swimming and going on shore for supplies and their nights tangled together in their bed. Dean is constantly a little sore but it is worth it. On one particularly beautiful night, Dean finds himself on his stomach, facing the sunset, as Castiel’s tongue fucks his hole. As it turns out, the selkie really enjoys rimming.

Before Dean knows it they are sailing away from Africa and along Portugal. They stop more frequently, even spending some nights in small hostels with other travelers. The Portuguese people are friendly, and tell Dean and Castiel in stilted English what a cute couple they make. In Azenhas do Mar they meet a couple, Victor and Bela, who are backpacking Europe for their honeymoon. They suggest a number of restaurants and shops to the pair, and even a secluded beach not too far down the coast. Dean and his mate spend a whole evening there, playing in the surf and kissing in the sand.

They don’t talk about how close they are getting to Castiel’s people, even though Dean can tell his mate is excited. He figures they both are realizing that they may not have much time together. That isn’t to say Dean hasn't thought about asking Cas to stay with him, because he has. But he doubts the selkie would take him up on the offer considering how long he has already been separated from his family.

Some nights Dean has that dream of being a selkie himself and wakes up longing to ask Cas to let him stay in Kalsoy, but then he remembers Sam and Bobby, and realizes he could never leave them.

Dean refuses to let their impending split keep him down for long. After all, he is spending at least another three weeks with Cas in some of the most beautiful places on earth.

Their last stop before crossing the final crossing to the United Kingdom is in a town called A Coruña, on the coast of Spain. Dean decides to go all out, and get them a room in one of the nicer hotels along the beach. Their suite has a large, queen sized bed and a jacuzzi tub, which the couple take full advantage of.

They make love until the sun rises, and they are both sore and sated. It’s equally wonderful and heartbreaking, though Dean refuses to acknowledge the latter. He has realized, in the last few weeks, that Castiel is likely the love of his life, and that he is not going to waste a second they have together.

Castiel is taking a swim in his seal skin, giving Dean the privacy to call his brother. Dean watches the selkie go with a smile before picking up the satellite phone. He dials the number easily, having done it so many times in the last couple of months, and waits for his brother to answer.

“ _Dean! Hey,_ ” Sam says in greeting.

Just hearing his little brother’s voice put Dean in a good mood. “What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asks as he sits himself on the edge of the boat.

“ _Things are great, Dean! It’s just about finals week, but I think I’m prepared,_ ” Sam explains.

“Of course you’re prepared! You’re Sammy Winchester!” Dean says with a smile. He can hear his brothers exasperated sigh through the phone. “I know, I know. ‘ _Call me Sam!_ ’” Dean mocks.

“ _Well I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not twelve,_ ” Sam says, but Dean can tell he’s smiling too. “ _Anyway! How are things? Where are you now?_ ”

“We left Spain yesterday. Figure we’ll hit England in a week, then I’ll drop Cas with his people and head home. I should be there in about a month and a half.” Dean tries not to sound down when he talks about leaving Cas, but he can tell he didn’t do a very good job.

The other line is quiet, then Sam asks, “ _are you okay?_ ”

Dean thinks about lying, saying everything is fine and dandy, but he knows his brother won’t buy it. He just doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words. “I don’t know how I’m going to leave him, Sam.”

“ _Castiel?_ ” Sam asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean clarifies. He can feel tears well in his eyes and he rubs them away petulantly. “I love him, man. And I can’t ask him to come with me, I can’t stay, I don’t know what to do.”

“ _I’m sorry, Dean,_ ” Sam says softly. “ _I wish I knew how to help you. Does he feel the same way?_ ”

Dean lets out a watery laugh. “Yeah, man. I’m pretty sure he does.”

“ _Have you talked to him about it?_ ” Sam asks.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure I know what he’ll say,” Dean tells his brother. “And I’m mostly okay. I mean, better I get some time, than no time, you know?”

“ _Yeah, I know._ ” He sounds sad, and Dean hates that that sadness is for him.

Dean can see where the water part as Cas swims just below the surface, and wipes away his tears. “I gotta go, Sammy. You take care, okay?”

“ _Alright, Dean. I hope you figure things out,_ ” Sam says in farewell.

“Me too. I’ll call you later.” Then he hangs up just as Cas hops on deck. He doesn’t slip out of his seal skin right away, and instead lays his head in Dean’s lap. Dean looks down at his familiar blue eyes and smiles. He bends to place a kiss on the seal’s forehead and feels content, at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a fun time writing this chapter! You're kudos and comments only help the process. Please let me know what you think. :)


	6. Decisions to Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Google Earth, for letting me zoom in on tiny little town on the coast of the UK.

As they sail, with nothing but choppy English Channel water surrounding them, it is easy for Dean to just _be_ with Castiel. They swim, and kiss, and laugh, and make honest to God _love_ to each other. Dean doesn’t bring up what’s going to happen when they get to Castiel’s home, and neither does Cas. 

Sometimes, when they are lying on the deck with sweat and come cooling on their bodies, Dean looks down at his mate and wants nothing more than to beg the him to never leave, but he can never bring himself to do it. When he calls Sam, his brother urges Dean to do _something_ , but he still can’t. 

A week after leaving Spain they see land on the horizon. 

According to Dean’s maps the closest town is a tiny, barely there village called Porthgwarra. Dean isn’t picky, and at this place is just itching to stand on even ground again. Dean steers the boat at close to the shore as he can and drops anchor. Cas, who was sitting on the starboard side with his feet over the edge, stands and stretches his arms over his head. Dean watches as his lithe muscles stretch under tan skin. His mouth waters wanting to taste him, but if they get going now, he knows there is no way they will get into town in time to grab a beer and maybe even a room. 

“Come on, man,” Dean says softly as he reaches for his jeans, that are hanging over a low-hanging rope. He tugs them on and throws another pair towards Cas. “Let’s go see if this place has a pub. I haven’t had beer since Venezuela.”

The selkie nods and pulls on his own pants before ducking into the cabin and grabbing a couple of t-shirts. He offers one to Dean with a dazzling, if a little sad smile. Dean wonders idly, as he puts the shirt over his head, if maybe Cas is starting to feel their time tick away as well. Is that why he is so sad? 

He shakes the thoughts from his head before they can spiral downwards. He slips his feet into a pair of sneakers, while Cas stays in his bare feet. The two of them wrestle the dingy into the water and jump into it. Together they row towards the beach and Castiel jumps into the sand first and pulls them further onto dry land, then Dean disembarks. Dean thanks the selkie for saving him from wet feet with a quick and wet kiss. 

Dean ties his little boat to a jagged rock and rubs his sandy hands off on his pants. When he turns back Cas is looking towards the opposite direction with a frown on his face. His nostrils flare in the wind as he inhales sharply. “Cas?” Dean asks.

It takes the selkie a moment to hear Dean and when he finally does he shakes his head and shifts slightly towards him. “Yes, Dean?”

“Are you alright?” Dean asks further. Castiel is looking at him now, but there is still a concerned confusion on his face. 

“I’m fine,” Cas mumbles and turns towards Dean completely. 

Dean smiles, which Cas returns, and holds out his hand. His mate takes it without a second thought and laces their fingers together. Dean will never get used to how will their palms just fit. Other partners hands were always to big or small, too sweaty or too cold. Castiel’s were the first hands that just _work_ with Dean’s like a puzzle piece. 

He’s not sure what time it is, but he would guess it’s early afternoon when they make it to the small town. The closest shop in in a painted white brick building and Dean pushes in. Inside it’s crowded, but warm. Nobody else is there except for one woman behind the desk and a little girl playing near the hearth. 

“Go get a seat, babe,” Dean says and gives Cas a soft kiss. “I’ll get us something to drink.”

Castiel makes his way through the empty shop to an overstuffed couch and sits down. Immediately the little girl moves to sit beside him and talks animately about something Dean can’t hear. Dean watches as his mate says something to make the girl giggle, and gives her a gummy smile that goes all the way to his eyes, making them crinkle in the corners. The little girl holds out a bowl and Cas takes what looks like a piece of cereal from inside. He eats slowly, but doesn’t stop smiling. 

“‘ello? Can I help you?” Dean hears and he turns to see a pretty woman with brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. 

“Sorry. I was just…” he looks over at his mate and back to the woman, “yeah.”

“Great guy you ‘ave there,” she says with a knowing smile. 

“Yeah, he is,” Dean agrees. “Uh, anyways, I was wondering what you’ve got to drink?”

The woman shrugs and leans her elbows on the countertop. “I’ve got ales, teas, coffee, you name it.”

“Two beers would be awesome, thanks.” She nods and turns back to a mini fridge behind her and pulls out two bottles. She opens them using an ominous looking nail in the wall and hands them to Dean. 

“These ‘re on the house.” At Dean’s odd look she explains. “My girl’s had a wee cold for the last couple days. Hasn’t smiled that big in just as long.”

Dean looks back at the couch where the little girl is poking her stubby fingers into Castiel’s beard while he goes crosseyed trying to watch. Without warning she forms a little fist and pulls, making Cas’ eyes widen. He doesn’t tug away though, just let’s the little girl play with the long hair. 

“Frankie! Come ‘ere and help mama!” The woman calls a little too loud for the small room and the girl pulls away from Cas. She pouts, but a stern look from her mother makes her listen. She sits up on the couch and pressing a kiss to Cas’ cheek and runs over to her mother with a smile on her face. The mother gives Dean a smile, which he mirrors, before taking his two beers and sitting in the spot Frankie left. 

“Looks like I got a little competition for your affection, babe,” Dean says with a laugh as he gives his boyfriend his beer. 

Cas laughs as well and takes a sip. “She was telling me a story about some very special snot.”

“Well I’m jealous.” Dean snorts and takes a swallow of ale. “Damn that’s good.”

The pair sit in a comfortable silence as they look at the fire and sip their beers. Cas leans into Dean’s side until his head rest on Dean’s shoulder. With a smile Dean wraps an arm around Cas and pulls him close. 

“Dean?” Cas asks quietly and tilts his head so he can look Dean in the eye. 

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean replies just as quietly. 

“I’ve been thinking about things a lot these last few weeks. Especially what it’s going to be like once we get back to the colony and I think I’ve decided something.” Castiel’s eyes are huge and blue and serious and Dean finds himself anxious about whatever the selkie has to say. 

Before Castiel has a chance to either make Dean’s year or break his heart the door to the shop slams open, bringing a strong ocean wind with it. In an instant Castiel is going stiff and he’s shooting out of Dean’s arms. He stands and turns towards the door so fast it gives Dean whiplash. 

Dean turns too and sees a man standing in the doorway. He’s wearing little jean shorts and a v-neck t-shirt. His sandy blonde hair is wet and sticking to his forward and he is looking at Castiel like he’s seeing a ghost. 

“Balthazar?” Cas whispers without moving an inch. 

“My God,” the man whispers before his mouth stretches into a huge grin. “Cassie! You’re alive!” 

Then the man is running, jumping over the couch (which is frankly impressive in those shirts) and pulling Cas into a bone-crushing hug. Dean can hear them mutter back and forth in what Dean has come to call selkie-ese. Balthazar pulls back and runs hands over Cas’ arms and face. 

“Bloody hell, Cassie.” Balthazar drop his arms and crosses them over his chest. “You best believe you’re going to explain to me what the hell happened but that’s not what’s important right now.”

Then the newcomer turns and stares down at Dean. “Who the hell are you, and why do you smell like Cassie?”

“Uh,” Dean stumbles. 

“Balthazar, meet Dean, my mate. Dean this is Balthazar, one of my cousins,” Castiel introduces with a wide happy smile. He sits back down and sets a wide palm on Dean’s knee, and gives it a squeeze. 

Balthazar’s eyes widen in shock and drops into the small spot on Castiel’s opposite side. “Your mate?”

“Yes, Balthazar, my mate,” Cas says again and a little more firmly. 

“Wow.” Balthazar leans back against the couch and lets out a sigh. He leans over and speaks to Castiel in selkie-ese, to which his mate nods. 

“Dean, Balthazar would like to talk to me somewhere in private,” Castiel says. Before Dean can whine and complain Castiel stops him with a kiss. It lasts longer than a peck, but not nearly long enough for Dean. “I’ll meet you back in your boat tonight.”

Still, Dean wants to complain. He only has a couple weeks left with his mate and he doesn't want to give up any time, but he can tell how much this time means to Cas. For God sake this is his _family_ who he hasn’t seen in _months_. “Okay, babe. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.” 

Cas gives Dean a grateful look and another, more lingering kiss, before Balthazar stands and pulls him out of the bar. Dean downs the rest of his beer, then Cas’ too, because it’s going to be a very long night.  

 

It’s been dark for hours and Dean is still lying on the deck of his boat. The night sky is lit up with stars in a way that he knows he’ll miss when he gets back to the states. He takes a deep breath, and blows it out in a huff. He’s not worried Cas won’t come back, _he’s not_ , but that doesn’t mean he wants him to be gone any longer than he has to be. 

Dean’s musing are cut short when there is a splash and a sea-wet seal jumps up on deck. The creature snuggles into Dean’s side and snuffles at his neck before resting his head there tiredly. 

“Hey babe,” Dean says quietly to his mate. “I’d ask how things went but it’s kinda hard to understand you like this.” 

Cas nods but doesn’t shift. He just flops closer still. Dean wraps his arms around the seal and closes his eyes. 

“I guess it can wait until morning,” Dean says quietly before drifting, finally, to sleep.  

 

Dean wakes to a warm body on top of him. Castiel is still sleeping, but at some point of the night had shifted and stored his seal skin in it’s basket, because his naked skin if on display in the soft morning light. Dean runs his hands from his mates shoulder down to the glorious swell of his ass and back up again. He will never tire of the feeling of those tightly wound muscles beneath his fingertips. 

He can tell Cas is hard between their bodies and he revels in it. Castiel feels so perfect against him. 

With little effort he shifts so Cas’ cock lines up against his own and thrusts up gently. The friction lights up like fireworks beneath his eyes and he moans. Another thrust pulls a similar sound from Castiel. As he moves his hips his lips make a slow journey down the skin of Castiel’s neck. It feels so natural, to be weighed down by Cas’ body. 

With the next thrust he can feel Cas respond and grind down against him while he moves his mouth to cover Deans. 

“Mornin’” Dean mumbles sleepily. 

Castiel just grunts and reaches for the bottle of lube that always seems to be within arms reach. Quickly and efficiently he pops the cap, coats his fingers, and gets to work prepping Dean. It only takes a few minutes before Dean is moaning wantonly as Cas spears him with two fingers, before slipping in a third. Cas’ mouth it at Dean’s chest, marking and pulling at his already sensitive nipples. 

When his fingers begin to rub mercilessly at Dean’s prostate he can’t help but come, untouched, between them. Cas uses his spare hand to rub the viscous liquid into Dean’s quivering belly. 

Just as Dean is recovering from the aftershocks Castiel is coating his cock in come and lube and pressing into Dean’s body. Dean is oversensitive, and pliant, and it feel so good that he moans and uses his legs to pull Cas in deeper. 

Cas has never been one to really _fuck_ Dean. He’s always been the more slow and steady kind of lover, and that doesn’t change now. He doesn’t chase his orgasm like so many of Dean’s partners have. Instead he just enjoys the feeling of Dean body around his cock languidly, until Dean’s cock is twitching valiantly; eager to be hard again. “I love you, Dean. So much,” Cas moans as he moves his hips in and out. 

“Mmm, you too, Cas, Love you too,” Dean says back. 

“I never want to be without you. Never. I want to be with you forever,” Cas mumbles into the meat of Dean’s shoulders. He opens him mouth, and grazes his teeth against Dean’s sensitive skin. Some baser part of Dean wants it. Wants Cas to bite down, and claim him. It’s something he’s never wanted before but now he can’t imagine going without. 

“Want that too, baby. So much, so much,” he tells his mate. “Fuck, you feel so good. I want to come again, can you do that for me?”

Cas groans and presses in until he is flush against Dean’s ass and grinds his hips in a dirty circle, hitting nearly ever button Dean has. 

Dean is hard again and he wants to reach for his cock, but doesn’t. It’s always better if he doesn’t. 

“I want to really mate you, Dean. I want everyone to know that you belong to me and I to you.” Then he mumbles a million ‘I love you’s in english and his native tongue. 

Dean reaches down and digs his fingernails into Cas’ ass, giving him more leverage to meet his thrusts. He gives Cas just as many words of love as he gets and before he knows it he feels the impending rush of another orgasm. “Fuck, Cas. I’m so close. Come on, baby, Fuck me. Make me yours for everyone to see.”

Cas groans long and hard and for once really fucks into Dean. With every thrust they move further and further on the deck until Dean’s head is against the cabin and bent at an uncomfortable angle, but he couldn’t care less. Cas is clutching at him like his life depends on it and is pressing his cock so deep Dean is sure he will feel it for days. He’s not sure what’s brought the animal out in Cas, but damn does he like it. 

“Mark me, baby,” Dean moans as he shifts his hips, getting Cas to rub at his prostate with the head of his cock. “Mark me up inside. Fill me with your come.”

Cas practically howls as he comes, spilling inside Dean’s tight hole. His mouth is back on Dean’s neck, and its the slight scratch of teeth, like a promise, that sends Dean over the edge. His orgasm is practically dry, and almost painful, but perfect. 

They are both quiet as they catch their collective breaths. Cas keeps his cock where it is, warm inside Dean, and kisses at Dean’s neck and chest. “I love you, Dean,” he says as he lifts his head to catch Dean’s gaze. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About what?” Dean asks as he pets through Cas’ unruly hair. 

“About wanting to be with me forever.” Cas doesn’t break eye contact, but Dean can tell asking the question makes him nervous. 

He’s seen this look many times. It’s the look of someone terrified of rejection. And it’s not a look he likes on his mate. 

“Yeah, Cas, I mean it. I would never leave you if I could help it.” Dean bends down and kisses Cas on his perfect, waiting mouth, and he can feel the selkie smile against his lips. 

When Dean pulls away Cas’ mouth is pulled into a wide, happy grin. “I want to make you my mate, Dean, in ways more than just words, but it’s not that simple.”

“Whatever it takes, man, I’d do it if it means I get to be with you,” Dean says honestly. The selkie’s eyes shine as he rakes his gaze over Dean’s face. With a grin Cas pulls his soft cock from Dean’s body and kisses him again, swallowing Dean’s groan. 

Cas pries Dean’s lips open with his tongue, and presses into his warm mouth. It’s dirty, and full of promises. He doesn’t break away until he feels his cock twitch. As much as he’d like a round three, he’s not sure he’s quite up for it now. 

“Okay. How do we do it? How do we mate?” Dean asks breathlessly as he looks up at the beautiful man above him. 

“Selkies mate by marking one another with their teeth, right here…” he bends down and places a kiss at the junction of Dean’s neck and shoulder. “The problem is, you are human. So a bite from me would not only mate you to me for life, but it would trigger in you a transformation.”

Dean takes a moment to let that settle in before asking, “so I’d be like you? A selkie?”

“Yes. After I bit you we’d have to lie together on the beach under my seal skin and by morning you would have grown your own. Then you would be able to bite me in return.” Dean can read the excitement on Castiel’s face, but it is almost completely overshadowed with nervousness. 

Logically, he thinks he should be nervous too, but he’s not. Dean has never felt more sure about anything in his life. 

“Okay,” he says to a wide-eyed Castiel. “Yes. I want that, more than anything.”

Castiel surges forward again and kisses Dean with everything he’s got. It’s a whirlwind. If Dean didn’t have to breath to survive he’d be happy to never leave his mates mouth. 

“What about after?” Dean asks when he finally breaks for air. 

Castiel lays his cheek on Dean’s chest and looks up at him with a contented face. “Well, I need to go see my colony. Balthazar told me that they’ve had sentries out all over the coast looking for me. It’s why he was here. He caught my scent and followed it yesterday. But once I’ve shown that I am alive and well I would like to go with you, wherever you go next.”

“You mean you’d leave your colony to be with me?” Dean asks, because it sounds too good to be true. 

“Yes, Dean. I’ve told you that while I love my family we’ve never been close. I’ve felt more love from you in the last months that I have from them in my whole life.” Cas kisses him again, then, sweet and short. 

“So can we do this tonight? I don’t want to waste another second not being mated to you, man,” Dean says. 

“Yes, Dean. Tonight sounds perfect,” Cas replies. And then they are kissing again, and again, and again, until the sun is high in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I'll have one more chapter, then the epilogue. Thanks to those who stuck around through my writing block! Hopefully I'll have the final chapters finished by the end of the week! 
> 
> And please let me know what you think, I love to read your comments!


	7. Finally

When Castiel goes to have lunch with his cousin, Dean wastes no time in grabbing his satellite phone and calling his brother. It rings six times before the line clicks over. He waits for something, like a voicemail or his brothers voice, but he hears nothing. 

“Sammy?” Dean asks after a moment.

“ _What the hell, man? It’s not even five in the morning,”_ Sam’s voice grumbles from the other side of the line. Dean checks his watch and winces. 

“Sorry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not quite used to the time zones, I guess.”

He can hear his brother yawn and stretch. “ _Is there a reason you called?”_

“Yeah, man. So I, uh, talked with Cas. He’s gonna home with me.” As he is saying the words he can’t help but smile. It’s something he never thought he would be saying. 

“ _That’s nice, Dean. But couldn’t you have told me, I don’t know, not at five in the morning?”_ Even Sam’s extra missy mood isn’t a damper on Dean’s good mood. 

“Nope,” Dean says, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Cause, uh, there’s something else I should tell you, about us bein’ together.”

“ _Then tell me so I can go back to sleep, jerk,”_ Sam finally mumbles, and Dean would bet he’s lying back on his pillow and nearly asleep again. 

“Bitch,” Dean laughs. “But really, man, this is important.” He pauses and coughs, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck even though his brother can’t see him. “So Cas and I are going to mate. It’s a selkie thing. But his bite is going to change me, or whatever.”

“ _Change you?_ ” Sam asks, sounding more alert now. “ _Change you how?”_

“Like change me-change me. So I’ll be like him,” Dean explains. There is another pause, this one more heavy and tense. “Sam?”

“ _Are you sure about this Dean?”_  

Dean knew this was going to happen, but he was ready for it. “Yeah, Sam. Never been more sure of anything in my life. I love him, man. And this is what it is going to take, and I think I’m gonna like it. Being a selkie I mean.”

“ _Well as long as you’re happy, I’m happy,”_ Sam says. “ _Now let me get back to sleep.”_

Dean laughs. “Alright, little brother. I’ll see you back home.”

Sam says his goodbyes, and hangs up his phone. With that over with, Dean finds he has nothing else to do other than obsess over what the night is going to bring. He’s about to tie himself to one man, forever, and change species while doing it. Bring it on, Dean thinks. 

To keep himself busy, Dean cleans out his boat. He figures it’s a good a time as any. He throws away wrappers, spare papers, cans, and papers. He even collects his ratty clothes to hopefully send through a real like washing machine at some point. When that’s all done he uses some of the environmentally friendly surface cleaner Sam gave him to wipe down the cabin and deck. 

By the time he’s done, Lady Colette is shining brighter than she did even back home. 

Still, though, Dean is anxious. So he grabs his guitar, sits on the sparkling roof of the cabin, and starts to play.  

 

Dean has nearly perfected Simple Man when Castiel hops into the boat, followed by another seal. This one, which is clearly Balthazar, is much lighter in color, with nearly gray eyes. 

“Hey, babe,” Dean says with a smile as he strums idly at the guitar. 

Cas jumps over to him and lays his head on Dean’s shin, and Dean can make out the seal shaped smile on his face. 

“Guessin’ you two had a good lunch,” Dean comments. He sets his guitar aside, and drops his right hand to the top of Castiel’s head. 

To his other side he can hear the water over rocks sound of a shift, and knows that Balthazar changed out of his seal skin. “As happy as I am for you two, we should really talk about tonight,” he says in his accented voice. 

“We?” Dean asks. “No offense, pal, but I figured tonight was just gonna be a me and Cas thing.”

“No need to get worried, darling, you’re not my type,” Balthazar laughs. He somehow found one of Dean’s robes, and wraps it around himself before sitting next to Dean. “Cassie,” he says to the other seal, “I know that must feel divine but we really need to chat.”

Dean can feel Cas shift against his leg and then his mate is sitting next to them. He twines his fingers with Dean’s and sends him a brilliant smile. “Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean responds. 

“Come on, you two, plenty of time for that later.” Balthazar rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “I’ll make this short. Cassie, you’ll need to time the bite to happen right at sundown. Romantic, I know. Then you cover Dean and yourself with your skin and sleep. I’ll watch over you until sunrise.”

“Thank you Balthazar,” Castiel says solemnly. “I think Dean and I can handle it until then.”

“Well, I can hear a dismissal for what it is.” He stands and drops his robe to the deck. “Toodles.” Then he shifts and hops overboard. 

“So, Cas,” Dean asks innocently as he checks his watch. Two hours until sundown. “How should we pass the time.” 

Cas’ near feral grin is all the warning he gets before he gets tackled to the deck, and a pair of warm lips cover his.  

 

Dean doesn’t think he will ever get tired of kissing Cas. The selkie’s lips pass over his skin leaving heat like hot coals behind. 

They kiss until Dean is hard in his pants and already feels a breath away from coming. 

“Cas,” Dean moans. Castiel just keeps kissing and licking at the spot where his bit will go. “Cas, baby, wanna go for a swim?”

“Yes. That sounds perfect.” Cas pulls his lips away with a pet pop and winks at Dean before rolling off the side and into the sea. 

Dean laughs when the selkie resurfaces and spits his mouthful of water out like a fountain. 

“Well? Are you coming?” Cas asks with a raised brow. And how can Dean say no to that?

He jumps off, cannonballing into the cold water, and immediately after he comes up for air Cas is on him, forcing him back against the boat and licking into his mouth. They swim and kiss until Dean’s muscles ache with the exertion. 

“Wanna go to the beach?” Dean suggests when they take a break. 

“You go. I have to get some things from the boat,” Castiel tells him. 

Dean nods and kicks himself in the direction of the beach while Cas jumps back on the boat. He swims until he can feel sand beneath his toes, and when he’s out of the surf he sits down and flops onto his back. 

With his eyes closed he listens as Cas splashes back into the water and a minute later he feels Castiel’s weight cover him. “I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers against his lips as his fingers fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. Together they pull it over Dean’s head, then Cas works at the buttons of his shorts. 

When Dean is naked, with the sand at his back and Castiel at his front, his body starts to shake with desire and nerves. “I love you too, Cas. Can’t wait to be mated.”

Cas mumbles praise after praise as he rolls his hips against Deans, until they are both hard and panting. Dean cants his hips up and hooks his ankles together behind Cas’ back. “Come on, baby. Please.”

“Almost, Dean. Promise,” Cas promises as he kisses Dean’s jaw. “Turn over.”

Dean does as he’s told, flipping over and going so far as to get on his elbows and knees with his face pressed into the sand. 

“So beautiful, Dean. So beautiful for me.” Cas’ kind words come a second before his hot tongue is at Dean’s hole, licking at the puckered skin until Dean was gasping for breath and pressing back for more. 

“Jesus, Cas. Your _tongue_ ,” Dean moans, mouth half full of sand. When he feels a lubed digit slide inside him along the wet muscle he curses. “ _Fuck,_ Cas. Oh my god.”

Cas works him maddeningly slowly until Dean’s hole is sloppy and the sun is beginning to set. When Cas finally presses in Dean is nearly sobbing with the feeling of being filled. The selkie repositions Dean until he’s flat on the ground and the change in angle has Dean howling. Offhandedly he wonders if Balthazar can hear them wherever he is, but then a well placed thrust makes Deans mind go blank. 

“Yes! Right there, baby.” Cas does as Dean begs, and presses deep, hitting his prostate with every moment. 

“My wonderful mate,” Castiel says against Dean’s ear, taking the lobe into his mouth. 

“You’re mine, Cas, all mine,” Dean replies breathlessly. 

Castiel keeps moving until the sun is nearly set. Dean can feel his teeth against his own neck just as the sun hits the horizon. “Are you ready, Dean?” Cas asks as his movements turn erratic. 

“So ready, Cas! Bite me!” Dean cries. 

And, by God, Cas does. 

His teeth puncture Dean’s neck just as the sun disappears and Dean has never felt pleasure like it. The bite triggers the most powerful orgasm Dean has ever felt, and he feels Cas follow his lead moments after. He can feel a strange new power course through him, and he knows it must be the transformation starting. 

Castiel pulls out gently and turns Dean on his side and crowds up behind him. “Beautiful Dean. I love you,” Castiel tells him as he pulls his selkie skin over them. It’s small, and basically only covered their groins, but it is enough to give Dean a sense of warmth he hadn’t been expecting. 

“Love you too, babe,” Dean mumbles. His eyelids feel heavy and, with Cas’ arms around him, he drifts off to sleep.  

 

Dean wakes slowly. He feels warm, and the sand feels different against his body; softer. It smells stronger but not in an unpleasant way. He can also smell Cas behind him, and flips his body over to face his mate. Cas’ watching him with bright blue eyes and his speckled seal face. Dean reaches out to him, and sees his own speckled flipper. 

His own seal skin is a tawny brown, like his human hair. Cas smiles and sniffs at Dean’s neck, giving the tender skin a little lick. Dean watches as Cas shifts, until he is lying naked in the sand. It’s strange, for Dean, seeing Castiel from this angle. He must look a little confused because Castiel laughs. “It must be strange at first,” he says. “You are beautiful.”

Dean tries to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled bark. 

Cas hushes him and runs a soothing hand down Dean’s flank. “Calm down, my mate. Let’s get you into your human skin and we can talk. I want you to just think about slipping your skin like taking off a jacket.”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to do as he’s told. It feels strange, but not uncomfortable. Cas was right, it felt like taking off clothes; albeit wet and sandy clothes. When he hears the familiar sound of a selkie shucking it’s skin he finds himself in his human skin, with light brown seal skin in his lap. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says roughly. “How’d I look?

Castiel kisses him and mumbles ‘beautiful’ over and over against his skin. 

“So babe, when do I get to bite you?” Dean asks. In reply Cas just bares his neck. “Here? Now? How will I know what to do?”

“I trust you,” Cas says with a smile. 

Dean returns it and bends down to smell at Cas’ skin. One particular spot, near where Dean’s is but closer to the collar bone, is more potent then the rest and Dean knows that’s the spot. He kisses over the spot until Cas sighs and then bites down. His teeth, though they don't feel any different, ease into his mates flesh and he tastes the blood in his mouth. Instead of being repulsive it tastes like sweet cream. 

When the mating feels complete Dean pulls away and plants a sloppy kiss on Cas’ mouth. 

In the distant a pair of hands start to clap and the couple turns to see Balthazar leaning casually against a large rock. “Mazel tov,” he greets. “Now what do you say you teach the new pup how to swim while I steer his vessel home?” 

 

Swimming as a seal is just as he imagined it’d be. He feels warm even in the chilly water, and his body cuts through it like a hot knife through butter. Cas swims besides them while they follow his boat north along the UK coast. If it were possible he would swim the entire way, but he knows he’s have to stop at some point. Until then, however, he is content to just enjoy the journey with his mate. At sunset of his first day of a selkie Dean and Cas hop aboard his boat, making Balthazar jump in place behind the wheel.

“Hello lovelies. How was your swim?” He asks jovially. 

Cas is quicker to shift, tossing his skin into its basket. Once Dean does the same he tosses his own skin in with Cas’ and gets a strange little thrill to see how good they look together. 

“Dean’s a natural,” Castiel tells his cousin, sending Dean a fond look. “How long till we get to Kalsoy?”

“Probably two weeks. Give or take a couple days,” Dean says as he looks over one of his maps. 

“And then we go home?” Cas asks as he slides to Dean’s side. 

Dean gives his mate a soft kiss and say, ‘yeah, Cas. Then we go home.” 

 

Dean and Balthazar take turns behind the wheel, regaling Cas with stories about Maine and the colony respectively. Every day they all go for swims in their seal skins. Dean keeps trying to speak, and only ever lets out barks. The other selkies tell him that eventually he’s get used to sharing thoughts and emotions through smells and body language, but that it’ll take time. 

Whenever Balthazar goes off on his own Dean and Cas will shift into their human skins and kiss and make love in the cabin. Once Balthazar walked in on them, and has since learned to give them plenty of time alone. 

They make it to Kalsoy a day shy of two weeks after their mating, and to say the colony is surprised is an understatement. They welcome the three with open arm and a huge fish feast. They all want to learn all they can about what happened to Castiel, and how Dean came to rescue him, and about their eventual mating. The pair are tightlipped, for the most part. 

Castiel makes sure to introduce Dean to Hannah, and the three spend an entire day to themselves in Castiel’s home-cave. 

After a few days with his colony Castiel is ready to continue on their trip. He and Dean give Balthazar and Hannah the address of Dean’s home and tell them they can visit whenever. 

They sail away from Kalsoy northwest towards Iceland. They spend some time on land, but mostly just spend time alone in the cabin, naked under the bedsheets.  

 

The final stretch, between Iceland and Maine, is rougher on Dean. Mostly because he is just ready to be home, but also because he doesn’t really like swimming in his seal skin when there is nobody else to steer his boat. They still do, but less. 

Dean’s main focus is sailing. He calls Sam on New Years Eve, because they are still a week away, and tells his brother how much he can’t wait to introduce him to Cas. Sammy, in turn, says how excited he is to see Dean as a seal. 

As the ball drops, or right around there, Dean and Cas make love on the deck, underneath the bright moon and thousands of stars. 

When they finally make it home, Dean docks Lady Colette next to Mary’s Love and Bobby’s old catamaran.

“Well, Cas, ready to meet the locals?” Dean asks, to which Cas nods enthusiastically. Together they get dressed in jeans and t-shirts (even though the selkie thing makes them pretty impervious to the cold) and hop down onto the dock. Immediately Dean reaches for Cas’ hand and locks their fingers together. 

Dean leads them to the roadhouse, and pushes open the door with a flourish. “Hey, you salty dogs! Miss me?” 

All heads turn towards him, though the only ones he really care about at sitting at the far end of the bar. 

Bobby pushes himself off of his barstool and crosses the bar quickly. Not too quickly, though, because he would never want to seem too eager. When he get close enough he pulls Dean into a manly hug, back pats included. 

“Sure is good to see you, boy,” Bobby mumbles as he pulls away. “And who is this?”

“Bobby, this is Cas. My boyfriend,” Dean introduces. 

“Boyfriend?” Bobby asks, not unkindly. 

“Yeah, kinda picked him up along the way,” Days says. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Bobby. Dean’s told me much about you,” Cas says, offering his hand for a shake. 

Bobby takes it just as Ellen and Jo approach. They are all wide smile and hugs, greeting Cas just as warmly as they do Dean. 

They spend nearly an hour at the bar before calling it a night. Dean walks them back to his apartment above Bobby’s garage, making a pitstop at the boat to grab their seal skins. Once home they fall into his bed and pass out. 

The next morning, a Saturday, Dean wakes up itching in his human skin. “Baby,” Dean mumbles as he pokes Cas in the side. “I’m gonna go swim. Wanna come?” Cas shakes his head and goes back to bed. “Suit yourself.”

Dean rolls out of bed and wraps his naked body in a robe. He grabs his seal skin and wanders outside to the steps that lead down to the water. A glance around tells Dean that he is alone, so he drops the towel and changes. 

He swims around for nearly an hour, and thinks about what he’s going to do next with his life. After he’s tired out he goes back to where his robe should be and cocks his seal-head. He knows where he left it, but the spot is robe-less. He changes skins and crosses his arms over his chest, seal skin held firmly against his chest. “Cas! Is that you? If you wanted to see me naked you just had to ask.”

“Whoa, Dean! Put that away!” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. 

Dean looks up and sees Sam smiling smugly down at him, with a gray terrycloth robe in his arms. 

“Sammy!” Dean calls happily. He races up the stares, not caring about his nakedness, and throws his arms around his brother, seal skin and all. 

“God! Dean, get off me!” Sam laughs. 

“What are you doing here, man? Shouldn’t you be at Stanford?” Dean asks after he puts on the robe Sam offers. 

“Took the weekend off. Have had the plane tickets since we talked at New Years,” Sam says. “I had to meet my brother’s new _mate_.”

Dean smiles and slaps his brother on the back. “Let’s go see if he’s up.”

“In a second,” Sam says, stopping his brother with a hand on the shoulder. “Can you show me?”

Dean nods, drops his robe (making Sam roll his eyes), and shifts. From his shorter vantage point Sam looks humongous. 

His brother’s jaw is dropped, and Dean barks to get his out of his stupor. 

“Holy shit, Dean! You’re a seal!” He says, all too loudly in Dean’s opinion. 

Dean gives his brother a _duh_ look and sniffs at the air. He turns his head towards the house where Cas is standing. His mate is dressed, mostly, in a pair of sleep pants with his seal skin over his shoulder and is smiling at the two of them. Dean motions with his head for Cas to join them, which Sam sees. 

Sam looks over at Cas and holds out a hand. “You must be Castiel. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you as well,” Cas says in a sleep-rough voice. Then he crouches down to give Dean a kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, Dean.”

Dean barks again, making his mate smile. 

“This is crazy,” Sam says with a grin. “Would it be weird to ask to see what you look like?” He asks Castiel. 

“Not at all,” Cas tells him before dropping his pants and shifting. Once Cas is down to his level, Dean leans over to give his mates cheek a lick. 

‘You two are disgusting,” Sam mumbles before sitting down on the ground. He crosses his legs beneath him and rests his elbows on his knees and his chin in his right hand. “So, tell me everything.”

Dean looks at his mate and laughs. 

It is good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I rushed this a little cause I got decimated by the mid season premiere. In a good way. Mmm. So good!


	8. Epilogue

Dean is surprised how easy it is to fit back into normal life. He still works for Bobby and Cas gets a job at The Roadhouse. Every morning they go for a swim in the ocean and spend their weekends going island hopping; sometimes as seals, sometimes in Mary’s Love. 

When Dean shows Cas The Bunker he gets an idea. 

In secret he buys the supplies and uses his lunch breaks to transport them. He tells Sam about his plans and his brother is more than supportive. It only takes him a month to get everything ready. 

As luck would have it he and Cas both have valentines day off. (Though between Bobby and Ellen it’s probably not luck at all) His mate doesn’t understand holidays and while Dean’s never been much of a fan he still can see that it’s kinda perfect. 

Dean wakes his mate up with breakfast in bed, which turns into feeding each other in bed, which turns into eating food off each other in bed, which turns into sex, and long story short it’s almost noon by the time they get shifted and go for their swim. 

Dean leads the way, playfully shaking his tail as he swims ahead of Cas. 

When they make it to the island where The Bunker is Dean jumps ashore and shifts. He’s getting better at it, even if the feeling still feels new and exciting. He hears as Cas shifts behind him and plasters himself to Dean’s back. 

“What are we doing here?” Cas asks as he kisses Dean’s mating mark. 

“It’s your valentines gift,” Dean tells him. “Come on.”

Dean takes Cas’ hand and pulls him towards the labyrinth of caves. He stops just inside the mouth and opens his arms wide. “Surprise!” 

He can practically smell his mates shock. 

What used to be a dingy old cave is still old, but much less dingy. Dean cleaned off the walls and floors, covering the ground in soft rugs. Against one wall sits two tables sitting end to end, creating a long counter. Underneath are a number of coolers and even a mini fridge plugged into a gas powered generator. There’s a propane stove on one end of the makeshift kitchen and a sink is cut into the center. Dean bolted pipes into the cave roof, and those pipes hold shelves with dishes and cups. 

Along the opposite wall is a television plugged into another generator and a lumpy old couch he took from Bobby. The couch is covered in quilts and pillows, mostly given to him by Ellen and Jo. 

Further back in the cave is a large mattress set low to the floor. It is heaping with even more pillows than the couch, making it the perfect place to nest together with his mate. 

It’s almost exactly what he dreamed about all those months ago. 

“Did you do all this?” Cas asks breathlessly. 

“Did it for you, babe,” Dean says. He gives Cas a lingering kiss and pulls him further into the room. “There a bunch more cave than this, but I wanted to get it started for us. We can expand as much as you’d want. Do you like it?”

Cas’ answer is to throw his arms around Dean, kissing him with all he has. When he finally resurfaces he mumbles, “I love it,” against Dean’s lips. 

“What do you say we take than bed for a test drive?” Dean says with a salacious wink. 

His mate seems more than up for that, if the feeling of his hard cock against Dean’s is anything to go by. 

Together they stumble back towards their bed, before crashing onto its cushioned top with twin grunts. Dean lands on top and rolls his hips against Castiel’s. The friction of their wet, naked cocks aligning together is almost enough to make Dean come, but he forces himself to calm down. 

Dean reaches above Cas to one of the bedside tables and pulls out a brand new bottle of lube. He can feel Cas kissing at his chest as he opens the top and liberally coats his fingers. He rolls it around his fingers as he settles back in Cas’ lap. 

His fingers are reaching back to start prepping himself when Cas stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Dean?” Cas says quietly. “I think I would like you to be inside me this time.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks, trying to hide his excitement. In all their time as lovers and mates Cas has never seemed to want to bottom. Not that Dean minds, he love the feeling of Cas inside him. 

“I’m sure,” Cas tells him with a smile. “If you would like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’d like that very much,” Dean assures him. 

Castiel nods and releases his wrist. With a smile he readjusts himself so that Cas’ legs are draped over his knees, and his hips are canted up. Dean grips his waist and pulls him up higher, so he can just see his puckered hole. It’s already fluttering, like it knows and is excited for what’s to come. Dean rubs a dry thumb over it and grins at Cas' groan. “You tell me if anything hurts, okay?” Dean tells his mate as he circles his rim again. 

“Yes, Dean. But it won’t. I trust you,” Cas says. His face is flushed and his eyes are bright and Dean thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. 

Dean squirts more lube onto his fingers and presses a slick pointer finger against it until it pops in. Cas lets out a breathy moan and grabs at Dean’s thigh for support. “It feels so good.”

“We’re just getting started, baby,” Dean coos as he presses his finger in to the second knuckle and out again. He works the single finger slowly in and out until Cas is ready for a second. But he time Dean is working two fingers in Cas is moaning and thrashing against the bed. 

Dean feels so hard he thinks he could crush stone, but he keeps going, because this moment is for Cas. He crooks his fingers and the pads stoke over his mate’s prostate. Cas arches his back and presses Dean’s finger in farther. 

A litany of words is falling from Cas’ lips; a combination of grunts, ‘I love you’s, and praises in selkie-ese that Dean is just starting to understand. 

Dean adds a third finger and marvels at how the pink muscle just sucks them in. He works them, a little quicker, until he can add a fourth, and only then does he pull them free. 

With shaking hands he pops open the lube again and pours a generous about directly onto his cock. He rubs it around gently, worried that event that simple touch with set him off, and lines himself up. “Ready?” He asks. 

Castiel nods and Dean begins to press in, with one hand squeezing his dick at the base. 

He slides in easily, his prep leaving Cas open and ready. When he bottoms out he leans down and covers Cas’ mouth in kisses. “I love you,” he tells his mate. 

“I love you too,” Cas responds breathlessly. “Oh, Dean. You feel… incredible. Please, move.”

Dean does as he is asked and pulls out before thrusting back in. His thrusts are harder than Cas’ usually are, but his mate isn’t complaining. If anything he is encouraging Dean with nails biting into his back. 

Dean can feel his orgasm approaching at lightning speed. “Are you close, baby?” Castiel just nods. With a shaking hand Dean circles Cas’ hard cock and strokes. It takes only four passes up and down before his mate is coming, cock erupting on his and Dean’s chest. His body squeezes Dean’s cock and Dean is coming immediately inside his mate. 

It will never cease to amaze Dean how much their smells change in the seconds after they come together. It’s like they change from two people to one, and it makes him delirious with happiness. 

Dean collapses on top of Cas, pulling out and curling up with a cheek pressed to his mates chest. 

“That felt wonderful, Dean. Thank you,” Cas says as he presses sloppy kisses to Dean’s hairline. 

“No need to thank me, babe,” Dean says quietly. 

They lay in their new bed, in their new home for a few quiet minutes as their heart rates slow. 

“I think getting kidnapped was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Cas says suddenly as he wraps his arms around Dean's shoulder. 

Dean can’t help but laugh. “That sounds pretty weird, babe. But I kinda agree. Don’t want to think about a life without you.”

Castiel tilts Dean’s head up with a finger and kisses him firmly on the mouth. “You will never have to be without me ever again, Dean. I promise.”

Dean returns the kiss and smiles. “Good.”

The pair fall asleep, cocooned together in their nest, surrounded by love and warmth and the smell of mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the fluff at the end. I couldn't help it. 
> 
> Thanks so much for being with me on this adventure. :)


End file.
